Death God's Hunter
by kujikiri21
Summary: Through a fluke of chance, Xander has caused Hell to set foot in the Elemental Countries. Now, charged by his patron, the Shinigami himself, to cleanse the land of his unwitting mistake, watch as Xander struggles to the save the world from his own damned mistake. Let's see if Buffy's stylish boots can fit his feet, shall we?
1. Chapter 1

The Death God's Hunter  
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, Angel or Naruto

**Chapter 1**

"Put her down!" A short elderly man, less than five foot in fact, demanded angrily.

"And let go of my only possible insurance at life?" The person addressed asked sarcastically, brown eyes tinged slightly gold, before pressing a kunai closer to the jugular of the young teenage girl, her pink eyes stoic and angry while hiding her fear, ready to slit it in a moment. "Yeah right, old man."

"Arrogant fool!" The elderly man snarled from the rooftops, the men accompanying him also growling their rage, his face flushing red to match his large nose, "the barrier will not last forever," the old man glanced at the slightly distorted air around the capturer and captured, a bubble that prevented anything from reaching the pair, even from underground. "And when it falls..."

"Yeah, yeah." interrupted the kunai holder, with a sneer at the little gnome up above, looking unimpressed, "save it for someone who cares!" the man theatrically sighed a moment, his hand never wavering from pricking his prisoner's delicate throat. "Look, Oniki-"

"That's Onoki Tsuchikage-sama to you, mongrel!" Yelled a man at the short man's side, dwarfing him at over six and half feet and three times the older man's girth.

"-I'll reason with you," the man continued, unconcerned, "Get your men," he glanced to the column of ready masked warriors, the elite of Iwagakure, that blocked each entrance and exit of the small plaza, "to make a path to the main gate. I'll exit your nice cozy little city, with this pretty little thing," he smirked hungrily at the girl he held, making the men all growl lowly, none more so than Onoki, "in tow for a while. Once I am far enough from your village, and if none of the men or women under your command have left the village in pursuit of me, I will let her go, unharmed, and we can both go our separate ways. No muss, no fuss, and we will likely never cross paths again. Sound like a deal?"

Onoki gaped wordlessly at the man. The sheer audacity that he had at dictating terms to him, the Tsuchikage, was unbelievable. Did the man -no, the _monster_\- really expect him to let him go, to let bygones be bygones, after what he had done, the atrocities he had commited under his nose, and had taken his own Genin of a granddaughter hostage after almost killing his daughter-in-law?

A pounding fury filled him as he clenched his fists, killing intent bursting from like a busted main, focused on the pale skinned bastard below him. Many of the men on the roof tops surrounding the plaza wavered, going pale, as they forced themselves to try and weather the storm that was his fury, suddenly reminded that, for all his short stature, he was their Tsuchikage. A man who had seen all three Shinobi Wars and had turned entire battalions of the enemy into dust.

Even as his grandaughter paled herself (in the back of his mind he couldn't help but be proud that that was the only thing she had done. He saw several Genin and Chuunin at the back of the rooftops fall faint under the weight of his ire.) the brown haired bastard, much to his surprise, seemed undeterred, grinning slightly at him with teeth that seemed sharper than they normally would be, despite the weight of his killing intent focused on him.

He frowned inwardly. Something was very wrong here.

He recognised the man, a small time genin nuke-nin from Grass. Reportedly had a minor gift with taijutsu and a degree of sensory talent and was a classic coward, abandoning missions when his senses told him that the opposition was stronger than him, which let the little rat survive. He shouldn't have been able to even touch his daughter in law, a jounin kunoichi with superb physical gifts, let alone injure her so grievously. Nor would he have been brave or stupid enough to enter the heart of Iwagakure.

He eyed the shimmering capsule. There had also been nothing in his file that indicated he had any training or experience in Barriers or Sealing, two particular disciplines that were kept particularly close by all villages and any traitors with said training would have been a priority for their Hunter's division.

Yet this man, wearing the nuke-nin's face, had shown the ability to do so, albeit in a manner Onoki was unfamiliar with, had shown callous brazenness and supreme unconcern along with sadistic tendencies (his daughter in law's maiming had not been clean).

Onoki narrowed his eyes. It may look like the cowardly brat, it may act like the cowardly brat, but he suddenly didn't think that it _was_ the cowardly brat.

Possession perhaps? The Yamanaka of the Leaf were only the most well known with that gift, not the _only_, and he knew Sarutobi well enough to know that he wouldn't do something like this. There was no benefit except angering Iwa and bringing about a possible military response. The ape was more pacifistic in his approaches and had never desired war.

"Well, old man?" Onoki snapped out of his spinning thoughts as the (soon to be dead) man called out mockingly, "you gonna do what I ask? Or," the kunai at his precious granddaughter's throat pressed deeper, a crimson droplet easily seen to collect on the tip of the blade, "is the pretty little lady going to have a few more scars before you fold?"

Onoki snarled lowly as he eyed the son of a bitch with the fire of a thousand suns, wishing nothing more than his death and destruction after a _long_ period of torture and pain, just to make sure he understood the depths of his own hatred for the bastard.

If only it wasn't for the damned barrier. It seemed to be impervious to any ninjutsu that was thrown at it!

He growled and went to answer, having no other choice. He would have to let the bastard go. He had already lost several of the citizens of his home after the bastard had managed to infiltrate the city somehow (he would be having...words with the Barrier Team after this. Dusty words.) along with, possibly, his son's wife. He didn't wish for any more of his family to suffer.

_Fwipp! Fwipp! Fwipp! Fwipp!_

He was interrupted as four glints of soared past him at tremendous speed, making his head snap around, along with his tall guard, Akatsuchi. Who the hell had thrown those objects?! He had given orders for all fire to be held.

"Is that supposed to do something?!" Onoki turned back at the mocking call from the nukenin, the bastard's face was exceedingly amused as he looked at the odd shuriken, looking like pentagrams rather than stars, embedded in the pave stones around him and his hostage. There were four of them, arranged in an off square around them both, centred around them.

Onoki then abruptly felt a surge of chakra, one that felt odd and strange, yet not corrupt, enter his senses from close by, and yet he couldn't quite pinpoint it, and judging by the sudden jump in those ninja he knew to have sensory abilities as they looked around neither could they, followed by a rough voice, almost a growl, that echoed around the plaza.

"**_Ginton: Juujika no Jutsu._**"

Then the scream began.

Onoki could only watch in shock as the shuriken all abruptly burned with a bright silver light that hurt to look at, like staring a phosphorus flare, before sending up a vertical pillar of that light, at least ten feet high, and then extending into a wall towards one of the counterpart shuriken.

Onoki quickly realised that it wasn't a poorly formed square that the shuriken were arranged in.

It was, as the voice had implied, a cross.

That wall of silver light then cut through the, suddenly apprehensive, bastard's barrier like it wasn't even there and then the light touched the bastard's skin.

The scream was deafening.

With a wail of utter pain, the bastard reflexively released his hold on Onoki's granddaughter, dropping the kunai, and leapt back, faster and far further than any Genin could have done (and if his senses weren't failing him, without a drop of chakra), his clothes billowing smoke as if he were afire beneath them. Onoki also noted numbly that the barrier around him followed his movements, an outright impossibility as Barriers were designed to be stationary, like a fortress wall, and that his now kneeling and gasping granddaughter was also in the centre of that silver formation.

And was unharmed.

All this had happened in a moment and, before he could react, a black blur came out of nowhere, so fast as be indistinguishable except for it's exceptional height, comparably thin stature and yet oddly bulky shoulders and long arms, grabbed his granddaughter and leapt towards him.

Onoki quickly moved back as the being landed, along with the other shinobi that surrounded him, giving them room to move and take down this possible threat.

"**Relax**," the figure said quickly with a low growl as it landed with a loud click of claws on stone, quickly placing the startled form of Kurotsuchi on her feet and stepping back with their clawed hands, looking more like paws, apart to show him empty handed and having no desire to fight, "**I'm not your enemy, ningen.**" the being looked back down to the plaza where the silver light began to die down, the cowering form of the nukenin slowly began rise back up to his feet as they died further, his hands covering his face. The being's inhuman face showed it's great teeth in a grim and bloodthirsty smile, looking like it wanted nothing more than to wrap those great jaws around it's targets bones and crush them. "**That right is reserved for that abomination,**" the tall beastial formed bipedal figure glanced down at Onoki, the wide smile becoming crooked and glowing greenish-gold eyes showing slight mischief, "**Today, at least."**

"A summon?!" demanded Onoki. This was unexpected.

The summon nodded with a small grin and a florid bow. "**Tobikotsu of the Ivory Plain Hyenas, at your service.**" The hyena introduced himself before smiling even more as he seemed to snuffle the air with a content expression, "**it has been a very _long_ time since we have last been summoned, I have to say I like the scent of the human world.**"

"Where is your summoner?" Onoki asked demandingly to the hyena. A glance showed the old ninja that this was no messenger summon, not with two fang like knives tucked into the belt of a loincloth and a long thin black wooden spear, dotted here and there with slight specks of a white material. making it appear as mottled as the creatures own fur coat, attached to it's back. It was a battle summon. The wide scars, like massive claw marks, also adorning the hyenas chest also emphasised.

And battle summons were almost never far from their summoner.

The clash of metal and metal was suddenly heard, making Onoki look down into the plaza, his face showing his shock at what he now saw.

"**Taking care of business,**" the hyena said with a nod down at the plaza.

* * *

Kurotsuchi's day had been absolute hell.

It had started pleasantly enough, sitting down for a late breakfast with her mother, both of them on the mandatory week long leave from the mission roster that all shinobi had after either four weeks of duty or the equivalent of three C-rank missions. Her father was still on a mission and expected back the day after and her grandfather had already left early for the office as was his custom.

It had felt good to chat with her mother about things, her teams was all male and none of them were any good for a decent girl talk (a serious kunoichi she may be, but she was still a girl/woman and thus still enjoyed a good chat).

It had all went down hill from there.

She had had only a split second's warning, the familiar weight of killer intent making itself known along with her mother's sudden widening eyes and breaking off mid-word, before the earth beneath the kitchen table abruptly rose up, tossing the wooden furnishing aside towards Kurotsuchi and knocking her away and the edge clipping her temple, dazing her for a few precious seconds.

She only remembered the warped sounds of metal on metal and crashing objects before she heard the sound of metal imbedding itself in flesh before everything was quiet for a moment before, with a shocked gasp that was terrifyingly familiar to the young kunoichi, the louder sound of metal on flesh cut through the room, followed by the thick coppery scent of blood and the thud of something heavy hitting the floor along with a harsh malicious laugh.

When she finally raised her head, she only saw a stranger wielding some sort of knife stalking towards her, eyes a poisonous gold, and behind him, laying lifelessly on the floor in a pool of crimson, was her mother.

She didn't have time to fully register the sight before a pale fist had struck her in the same temple as the table, and all thought had ceased.

She had next awoken to see the blurring of roof tiles and the familiar sensation of leaps and bounds as she was carried roughly over the shoulder of her mother's assailant. Her ears could faintly hear the hue and cry and clatter of shinobi sandals striking tiles as others pursued her assailant.

She couldn't see much, facing downward and her motor functions were sluggish and weak with nausea, evidence of a possible concussion. Still, she was a kunoichi, not a damsel in distress despite being carelessly carried as one. She had forced her mind to focus.

The strength and speed with which this man moved showed that she wouldn't be able to physically overpower as she was, and any ninja worth their salt would feel the build up of her chakra for jutsu while being as close as she was to him. She had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate her attempt to escape.

That left putting him in a position for others to capture him. But how to do that?

Her inspiration came when her captor made an abrupt turn and fleeing in a different direction as he managed to dodge an ambush. The turn made her see the direction he was now going and quickly began to plan.

She knew the route he was now taking, one that have him pass near a large open plaza that the chasers could easily surround, especially with brief glimpse of seeing other forces converging from a different angle.

She waited for the right moment, bludgeoning her brain to work carefully and delicately to shift her chakra incremental amounts toward her legs, ready push her target off balance as she measured her distances.

The flash of a familiar white roof had gone by and then she shifted, rolling on her captors should and ignoring that said shoulder buried into her kidneys, she kicked out with both her sandalled feet and all of her chakra magnified strength to the side, hoping that it would hit what she hoped for.

It did.

Her feet met the side of a tall chimney that she had hoped was there, giving her purchase, and she was able to shove her startled and swearing captor and her self through the air and out over the plaza, both of them tumbling through the air.

Kurotsuchi had smirked at a plan well done.

They were both away from the rooftops from which he could travel swiftly, on lower ground, slowed and off balance. The chasers would be able to catch up swiftly.

They had landed roughly but, much to her disappointment, still upright, if a little stumbling. He may have had a chance of still getting away had the chasers not been as fast as they had.

Kurotsuchi, still in her captor's grasp and still dazed from the strike and possible concussion, was, again, able to only watch as her captor was assailed. Stone needles and fist sized rocks fired by her would be rescuers toward their foe.

Her captor had only glared at the missiles, his eyes shining gold, before he had slashed his right calm with a finger nail that was almost a claw, making it bleed, before barking out an incomprehensible word.

She was close enough to feel it. An abrupt swelling of power, feeling almost hungry and insane, full of hatred for all that was and is and will be, filling the immediate air around herself and the pale skinned man, distorting and twisting it, making it look like she was underwater and choking her with it's intensity and strength.

It was completely inhuman.

The missiles that struck the barrier simply bounced off or broke. Successions of carefully aimed volleys of different elements and weapons met with the same result. Attempts to physically assault the barrier were also repelled with ease, blistering the skin and burning through any covering material they had. Attempts to enter from underneath, a mistake many barrier users surprisingly often forgot, had also failed to yield any positive results for the ninjas of Iwagakure.

She might have been impressed with the barrier if she had not been held helplessly captive by the bastard that had created it.

The barrage finally stopped as her grandfather arrived, his short stature belying the air of an outraged Kage he wore like cloak, and gave commands that were carried out instantly. No one was foolish enough to anger their Kage at this point in time.

The short discussion that her captor had then had with her grandfather made her grit her teeth. How dare the man show such a lack of respect for her Tsuchikage! Didn't he know that, if he so desired, her grandfather could have wiped him from existence with a nary a single gesture and surge of chakra?! The Dust Release that her grandfather wielded was just that potent and deadly.

Unfortunately, she knew that the limp dicked bastard would get away with it. For all his hard arsed stances and willingness to sacrifice what was needed for his village to stand triumphant, he was still a man that loved his family. As long as the bastard had her in his grasp... Her grandfather would would follow the bastard's instructions.

Then, out of nowhere, she had been rescued by a rather bizarre jutsu. It the thin barriers had touched her but had done her no harm, while her captor had howled as if he had just been set on fire after being coated in hot tar.

Another blur and then she was set on her feet by a tall gangly summon, a Hyena if she heard correctly, next to her grandfather.

It was nauseating but she managed to hold down her bile, she wouldn't show weakness here.

The screams of her would be captor had now fallen silent, turned to angry growls as metal struck metal.

Her captor was now facing off against another stranger, one that had no hitaiate but was clearly moving at speeds of a trained chakra user.

At first glance, the stranger seemed to have the general configuration of a male, with broad shoulders that were never seemed to appear naturally on one of the female gender. He wore heavy leather boots, something not usually seen on shinobi, generally preferring their sandals. A set of tight, but not too tight, earth-tone coloured pants of a type and material she was unfamiliar with but seemed also heavy and thick. Over his upper body he wore a long white coat that reached just short of his ankles, a high collar that concealed the entirety of his neck and lower face, and seemed to have a cloudy grey hood attached to it and she could see a woven straw hat, similar to those worn by monks, discarded off to the side.

Most of her attention, however was drawn to back of the long coat and the way he fought.

A strip of three characters ran down the coat. Aku Soku Zan. Slay Evil Immediately or a Swift Death to Evil. A rather ominous phrase. Maybe even a naive one. The line between 'good' and 'evil' for the shinobi world was so thin as to be almost non-existent.

Despite that, the way he fought her former captor was mesmerising.

The bastard seemed to have slightly recovered from the effects of the odd jutsu, one that was probably cast by the coat wearing man, to an extent as was fighting the man in weapons combat, a kunai longer and more curved than standard, making them more like daggers, in each hand. His eyes were a poisonous gold, a colour that would no doubt haunt her dreams and nightmares for quite sometime, as he attacked viciously at speeds that she she could barely see and would be unable to match. It was clearly at above Chuunin level speed, maybe bordering Jounin!

The stranger, however, seemed unperturbed and unsurprised, like he was use to dealing with this type of speed on a regular basis.

It was clear that he was slower than her would be abductor by a fair margin, but his reflexes were beyond impressive, reacting at a ridiculous pace.

His skill with his weapon, an odd combination of scythe and axe and sword that she never even heard of let alone seen which seemed to be made of silver or, more likely, a silver alloy, was also beyond impressive. Despite her knowing nothing about the weapon, she knew enough about weapon users to know a master from a novice after a glance.

That man down there was clearly a master and it showed, his clothing barely being ruffled while the bastard, whose style seemed more primal, as if the kunai were being used in the place of claws, than she was use to seeing, was clearly sloppier, sacrificing skill for more bodily might, and the foolishness of that choice was mounting up, gashes and cuts appearing on him with just about every swing of the man's scythe and it was only the bastard's raw speed that kept him in the game.

The big thing that she noticed in that fight however, one that had forced many of those to watch the ongoing fight rather than intervene, was the fact that the weapon was passing through the still raised barrier around the bastard like it wasn't there.

She narrowed her eyes, looking at the words on his coat again, her gears spinning as she pondered a possible answer, a suspicion arising in her mind, before tucking it away in the back of her head for a more thorough thought at a later date.

"You fucking bastard!" Roared her former captor, snapping her back to the fight. Her saviour had managed to, literally, disarm the bastard, sending the severed appendage flying. She blinked as, after a moment, the arm seemingly dissolved into ashes in mid-air. That wasn't normal.

Her grandfather grunted beside her, his black eyes piercing as he also watched the fight with a detached expression and a grim smile as it devolved into a more desperate one. The one-armed combatant trying to scuttle away but the coat wearing one doggedly keeping on him, keeping the pressure on.

"**About time,**" she heard growled, glancing at the bipedal Hyena summon who had spoken and was now detaching the thin spear from his, at least she assumed it was a him, back and rolled a hunched shoulder ready to throw it.

"What are-?" She was about to demand, not entirely sure what was about to happen. Was the summon about to stab his own summoner in the back? She had heard the reputations of wild hyenas and they weren't good. Cowards and scavengers to a one was the common opinion. Was this reflected in the summoning tribe?

"**Easy, Princess,**" the beast said, a hint of respect in the voice at the title he gave to her, "**I'm not going to hurt my summoner. We've worked together long enough to know what the other is going to do.**" He hopped slightly up onto the roof ledge, stretching tall and leaning slightly backward with the spear as he looked down onto the fight with studying eyes, appearing like he was going spear fishing in the shallows more than anything else, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself for him to intervene and strike.

She frowned as she turned back the fight. It was clear who was going to win now, it was just a matter of time and what exactly that the summoner and summoned pair had cooking in their brains.

It was all over less than a minute later.

In a single movement, as the desperate and maimed fool overreached, the odd weapon shot out, the outside and sharp edge cleaving through the wrist in a smooth chopping motion before making it spin in his hand and hooked the inner and blunter edge behind the bleeding bastard's ankle and pulling hard, making the bastard land flat on his back, before the scythe wielder rolled forward and away, leaving the bastard open if it wasn't for the damned barrier he still managed to have up.

This seemed to be what the summon was waiting for.

The spear glowed a light blue as chakra filled it's length, the white spots shining like pearls, before the hyena cast it downward, aiming for the pale bastard with a yell.

Like lightning from the skies, it struck fast and true, going straight through the barrier and piercing the enemy straight through the stomach and pinning him to the earth like a bug on a board.

The scream of pain was music to Kurotsuchi's ears.

But the hyena wasn't done.

Slapping his front paws into a seal, he moulded chakra for a jutsu.

"**_Hiden: Kotsu no Ori!_**"

The impaled man screamed even louder as the glowing pearls erupted, growing and extending...

Becoming bones.

They extended and curved, like ribs, digging into earth, stone and flesh with impunity, almost staking out the bastard where he lay. Some entered through his shoulders and other joints, rending and tearing them and ensuring that he couldn't move an inch without an agony of pain. Sadistic and painful, but most definitely an effective jutsu. Kurotsuchi could easily see the possible deadly applications of the jutsu and weapon combination.

Then there was another flicker of chakra from the beast, the paws flowing into another hand seal.

And the spear rotated. Swiftly.

Body parts were sent flying and spinning, the torn head's mouth open in a wordless scream and the earth staining red briefly, before, as with his other lost appendages, turning into ash in the wind. For a moment, the granddaughter of Onoki thought she heard a howl of rage and pain and despair on the wind, making her spine shiver in instinctive fright.

Then the fight was over and the bastard was dead.

"Nice shot," she complimented the much taller hyena with a slight smirk. She could appreciate a job well done, as long as she wasn't the job in question.

"**For a whelp, any successful shot is a nice one,**" the beast shot back with a smirk of his own, "**no matter how _easy_ it may be.**"

She scowled at the beast, going to retort, before a slight humph at her side made her look down...to meet her unsmiling grandfather's eyes.

Oops.

"If you are quite done?" The shorter man drawled slightly, his large eyebrows raised in sarcastic questioning. She nodded slightly meekly. This was not her grandfather she was talking to at the moment, is was the Tsuchikage who's village had just been attacked and wanted answers as to why.

The Tsuchikage glanced at the summon, making the beast stand stiff and tense, his glowing eyes wary. Despite the size difference between them, the beast easily triple the small human's height, it was clear to any that actually looked who was the more powerful of the two, and they both knew it.

"I will give you and your summoner the benefit of the doubt for now," the Tsuchikage said coldly and dispassionately, "you both have done no harm to any citizen of Iwa, that I know of, and have aided in the rescue of one of my shinobi and the capture and execution of the culprit who did so. You will both be treated as guests, despite the fact that you both obviously broke through the village's security...as long as you both cooperate fully with the investigation as to how this whole debacle happened. Are these terms agreeable?"

"**Actually only my summoner entered,**" the beast corrected, "**and he did it completely by the book. Passport, questioning and seal. All of it was above board. I was just summoned after he had entered.**" He looked down at the Third, "**but, on behalf of my summoner, I do accept these terms**."

"Good," the old man said gruffly before glancing back down at the plaza, his elite shinobi flowing in and either following proper procedure or leaving now that they were not needed. "Go join your summoner."

"**Earth Mother bless you, Lord Tsuchikage**," responded the Hyena with a nod of respect before leaping down to the plaza and loped easily through the mass of shinobi, casually tearing his spear out of the ground as he passed by it, towards his summoner who was seated off to the side, covered and guarded equally by a half dozen visible GEM units, but otherwise armed and unrestrained as he seemed to carve something from the a block of wood that he had obtained somewhere, a curl of wood coming away by use of a very sharp knife. The odd weapon he had used was nowhere to be seen.

A surprising carefree picture of a man who had, mere minutes before, been in a clearly deadly fight with a nukenin of some degree of skill.

"Akatsuchi," commanded the Tsuchikage, making the ever present large man start at being addressed personally, the older man never even looking at the much taller Jounin, "please ensure that our guests are escorted to the Ambassador's Quarters close to the Spire, and that his needs are seen to," the old man glanced at the sun, judging it's position, "Get something to eat along the way as well for the three of you, Maki's is open now I think, and charge it to my account. Also make sure that the Spire kitchens know that they will be making food for a single, mature and highly physical male and a medium sized carnivorous summon."

"Yes, sir," the large man said and promptly hopped down, landing surprisingly lightly for a man of his size and girth, and went about his orders.

"Granddaughter," the Tsuchikage continued, looking up at her with a slightly soft light, a small liver spotted hand reaching out to gently place it on her arm, "let us go and get you fixed up. Your mother also will no doubt be waiting to hear from you," his eyebrows scrunched together in a frown, "and to give me a verbal thrashing." He muttered under his breath, but Kurotsuchi clearly heard. She withheld a small giggle as much as she could.

Her mother was a formidable force and not one to be taken lightly, even by one as strong as her own father in law.

She nodded in acceptance and her grandfather was quick to channel his chakra around them, preparing for the familiar Shunshin he would execute.

As his chakra and loose earth wrapped around them, she couldn't help but glance once more down at her saviour.

To her surprise, she was able to make eye contact for the first time, finally able to see the face of her rescuer. Her eyes eagerly drank in the features that she saw.

It was a young face, but older than her own by a year or three at best guess, her eyes spotting the premature creases in the face that indicated a life of either excessive laughter or a great deal of struggle, which made him appear a little older. He had black hair, a common sight, that went down his back, looking shaggy and wild, like a mane or a ruff. His firm jaw was more defined than pointed, chiseled but not shaped, and the rest of his features had that same rough edge to them, as if carved from the very bones and stones of the earth, and his skin was deeply tanned, obviously having spent a lot of his time outdoors and working in the sun (with very little protection if the fading marks of peeling that her womanly eyes, ones that were easily able to tell if her make up was good or bad, were able to spot. Although he seemed to changed a little recently, the youngest peeling more than several months old, at least.).

However it was his eyes, or rather eye, that caught her attention.

His left eye was covered in black eye patch that seemed to just stick there, with the character for 'shi', meaning 'four' or 'death', written in white. His other eye was a deep brown, reminding her of fertile soil and hard stone, with flickers and flecks of a vivid emerald green that danced through it like stars in the night sky.

The emotions she saw in his solitary eye were almost overwhelming in their intensity.

A fierce protectiveness, a drive to succeed, a sense of despair and loneliness followed by resignation and a fragment of hope that was hidden by almost everything else. A grim resolve resided there, along with endless endurance, sheer will and dogged determination that could wear down the very mountains themselves. This was not the eye of a mere teen, shinobi or not.

This was the eye of experience, of age. This was an eye that had seen horrors and nightmares, as well as dreams come true. That had seen heaven and experienced the depths of hell.

An eye of an old soldier, an old shinobi. Of a Kage.

Yet, as they made eye contact, that grim expression on his face and glint in his eye vanished for a moment, making her think she had dreamed it, as he gave a crooked grin at her, slight mirth filling his eye, as she felt herself pulled along behind her grandfather in the Shunshin.

She couldn't help but blush at the smile and grin he gave her. She thought that he should do it more often, it made his whole face light up.

Not to mention extraordinarily handsome.

* * *

Okay folks, tell me how you like this. This is going to be one of two stories that I will introduce all of you to on the lead up to Christmas. Think of them both as a Christmas present to all of my fans out there that have inspired me to write all of these stories.

This one is a crossover, obviously, between Buffy and Naruto. I am currently thinking of making it post season seven of Buffy, a year or two after the finale and completely ignoring the trash heap that is the supposed season eight and nine. Those just give me a head and ruin my enjoyment of the franchise.

Xander was involved in a nasty little brouhaha with a Master Level Vamp that existed in Africa, who was of course up to no good, when magic got involved. True to form and Harris' luck with the arcane, everything gets shot to hell (not literally) and sets both of the combatants sailing through the void that connects all worlds before getting spat out in the Summons Realm. Xander lands heavily while the Vamp wounded, bleeding and dazed, manages to stagger away, once more falling through the currently unstable dimensional fabric into the Elemental Countries.

With the arrival of Master Vamp in the Elemental Countries, you can bet your boot socks that everything is going to go around the twist. You think the dimensional busting bitch Kaguya is bad? Wait until you get a load of the nasties that will come knocking now that vamp has opened the way through. Pandora's Box, anyone?

I freely admit I stole the idea of Xander introducing vampirism and associated nasties from Relim with his/her Xander in Westeros stories. But I have my own twist that I will introduce and is one of the causes of Xander's new found abilities. That said, I have also altered what exactly happened to him on the very well known Halloween and the after-effects there of. The series will, admittedly, still run very close to cannon with a few of my own touches. Mostly just making it so that the more tragic events didn't happen.

I'm a sucker for a happy ending, the good guys always win, the bad guys always lose and the hero getting his girl, so sue me!

Anyhow, if everything goes right, you guys should see the other story I'm introducing up in less than a week. Hopefully it will also peek your interest.

As always, please leave a review,  
Kujikiri21


	2. Chapter 2

The Death God's Hunter

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, Angel or Naruto

**Chapter 2**

"I have to say, Onoki," a red headed man grinned as he reclined on a couch in the Tsuchikage's office, a saucer of Rice Country sake in his hand and a half full bottle on the table in front of him, "that recruitment drive for the Ninja Academy a few years back was right; there is always something happening." the man gulped his sake in a swift swig before placing the saucer on the table with a click. The ninja's face then lost it's humour, "I wasn't expecting, however, for one of the few members of this place that I can call friend, and her daughter, to be attacked and grievously wounded in her own, supposedly _protected and guarded, _home. What in Kami's happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," The Tsuchikage said through gritted teeth, never turning his eyes away from the volume of information in front of him, scanning through the various reports of different teams while, at the front of the desk and clearly separated, were two open, but very sparse and thin folders.

One folder, stamped twice with crimson ink, saying 'Deceased' and 'Traitor', was the profile of the shinobi that had attacked his daughter in law and abducted his granddaughter, a picture included showing a nervous and mousy brown haired and eyed youth, along with the evidence of killing multiple villagers before the incident. The remains of all the villagers had as yet to discovered but those that had been showed that the nuke-nin was a real piece of work.

On the other side was the profile of his granddaughter's saviour. More complete but still also sparse. The summon had spoken the truth when he had said that his summoner had entered legally. Documents were in order and with no signs of forgery even after being examined hastily by some of the best in the Cryptography department. His passport was new, less than two years old, but in the system and clean, his movements traceable and documented, which would help them all later to find out more about the young man.

He had also, more importantly, declared his ability to use chakra and the amount he had. A necessity for a ninja village to know who was capable of using the arts outside of their armed forces. The use of chakra was hardly a real secret anyway, foolish nobles often using it in court. As they couldn't police the use of chakra, a visitor to a hidden village was required to inform the guards if they could consciously use the chakra and the total amount they had access to, a compromise between security, to guard and protect the village, and privacy, as visitors could very well become clients and no one liked their business to be butted into. To not do this and be found out was an instant imprisonment sentence of at least five years, for civilians, or a delayed death sentence after interrogation, for shinobi.

Understandably, it made the Tsuchikage a trifle annoyed. If the boy had lied, then he had leverage through which he could obtain more information on the boy. And information was the bread and butter of any half decent shinobi.

Ignorance often lead to a shinobi's death after all.

"Is Kei alright at least?" The red head insisted on asking, making the shorter man pause and look at the taller man.

"She is recovering but it will take time for her to completely heal," Onoki grimaced, "the little shit was able to do a fair bit of damage before she passed out and he ignored her for Kuro-chan." Onoki's grimace became a scowl, "there shouldn't be any loss in combat effectiveness after she is healed. The medics are giving her a month to get back on her feet, two to three months for physical therapy to put her back on the roster, limited to C-ranks while outside the village, and another three before she will be back to normal or possibly better."

The red beared man winced before tossing back another saucer as he rose to his feet, sandals slapping before he leant casually on the corner of the Leader of Iwa's desk. "That's really not going to go down well," the red head said idly as he poured another saucer, this time placing it in front of Onoki, "she ain't going to like being restricted like that." The red head smirked as Onoki downed the saucer without pause, "I don't envy the one that has to have that conversation with her. Kei was always a bit of an action junkie in the field. She absolutely _hated _doing border duty."

"I'm not going to give her a choice, Roshi," Onoki said flatly, stabbing his stubby finger onto the red ink marked picture of his in-law's assailant and almost killer. "This little shit, barely an upper genin by reports, was able to get around the guards to enter _my _village, kill numerous of _my _people in manners to hideous to be spoken _while_ managing to keep himself hidden, and attack and almost kill members of _my _family who by all rights should have turned the little fuck into paste from the get go." Onoki snarled, his chakra flaring, and floated from his seat to be able to look Roshi directly in the eyes, "I am not risking any more of my blood until I can figure out what the fuck happened and how I am going to fix it. End of story!"

"Hey, hey." Roshi said, extending his palms outward in a gesture of peace and placation towards the flushed and infuriated little man, "I'm on your side, Onoki, and I completely agree, no need to get angry at me. I was just commenting on Kei's behaviour."

Onoki glared at the man, before sighing heavily and floated away from him, snatching the two files he was most frustrated by from his stone desk in the process, and headed towards the small balcony attached to his office. Roshi quietly followed behind, sake and two saucers in hand. The red head had a feeling they were both going to need it.

They both emerged on the balcony that completely encircled the top of the Spire, a masterwork of the First Tsuchikage. Like his counterpart in Konoha, the First Tsuchikage had created what word be the village he would preside over. Where the Senju worked with wood, the First Tsuchikage crafted with earth, rock and stone. He created a vast crater in the ground and in it created tall spikes of stone, all in one piece and hollowed out in a honey comb like fashion, fashioning odd but serviceable homes for his followers. The largest spike came to known as the Spire, from which all Tsuchikages had since used to overlook their village.

In the light of dawn, the sun bounced of off the tips of these odd accomodations, glittering like jewelled spear tips thrust towards the sky. It was a unique and magnificent sight.

But for Onoki at the moment, he couldn't truly come to care about the sight, his eyes were more focused on the threats that had arisen in his village.

He passed the folder of the nuke-nin to Roshi, a comrade of many campaigns and someone he trusted absolutely and began to speak as Roshi perused it intently, "Meet Tsubame Kiiro, also known as the Swift Rabbit. Nuke-nin from Grass and listed as a Genin. Earned his name due to sheer cowardice in the field. A minor long-range sensor with the slightest of gifts toward taijutsu. Ninjutsu is negligible, nothing that you would see beyond a civilian born Genin and Genjutsu was supposedly limited to cancellation. A small fry among small fry." The short man's eyes narrowed, "and yet he was the one that managed to almost kill Kei, abduct Kuro-chan and make a mockery of my shinobi."

"You sure this is the guy?" Roshi said confusedly, scratching his head like a puzzled monkey, "because I'm not seeing how this wimp could do all that?"

"There was visual confirmation," Onoki stated with a small frown, "but actual physical evidence like blood and tissue samples could not be carried out. He was rent apart and turned into ashes by Kuro's saviour before tests could be done. However, limited contact with the perpetrator showed that he used an inferior version of one of Grass' combat styles, particularly the Twin Harvest."

"Which is taught standard to every Shinobi that comes out of their academy." Roshi followed the line of reasoning. "Okay, that's good enough for circumstantial evidence. However that doesn't explain how he managed to almost gut Kei like a fish. She should have been able to tear him apart blindfolded."

"Observations made during the chase and brief battle," continued Onoki, "indicated that the perpetrator's level of power wasn't accurate. Speed alone was indicated to be borderline Jounin."

Roshi's eyes bugged out. "Your kidding?! The bastard shows a degree of competence in body work, for a Genin, but there is no way he would have been able to obtain Jounin physical prowess in," he leafed through the folder again before finding the shit's service record, the final entry describing 'Traitor' dated...

"Four Months?!" Exclaimed the red head, before he shook it violently, "that is impossible. I don't care how you slice it, it takes a lot longer for someone to increase their physical body and chakra interaction with the body from Genin to Jounin level. It's just not possible."

"Nonetheless, the evidence is before your eyes," Onoki gestured, "it also looked like there was increased strength involved in his growth as well as tutoring in an unknown form of Kekkai Ninjutsu," he looked at the frowning red head, "_moving _Kekkai Ninjutsu."

"Bullshit," Roshi said flatly, not believing the shorter man, "Kekkai Ninjutsu users have been trying to accomplish that for centuries, since before the founding of the Villages. None have succeeded or it would have been known. That sort of thing is going to attract a lot of attention from every man and his mangy dog."

"Say that to two thirds of my shinobi who witnessed it in action," Onoki retorted. "The little shit stood there and took everything we threw at it like it was nothing. I couldn't risk using the Dust Release because he held my granddaughter hostage, but I have a bad feeling that it might have done nothing anyway."

"Alright, ignoring the unbelievability of that and the fact we turned left into the funny farm when you mentioned moving barriers," groaned the red head, rubbing the metal strip that ran across his nose and beneath his eyes, "how, exactly, did this unknown saviour of my goddaughter manage to even attack the little shit?"

Onoki simply passed over the small file he had on his granddaughter's rescuer.

"Let's see," murmured Roshi as he scanned the front page, "Name: A-re-ki-su-za-ni-da Ha-ri-su." The scarlet tressed warrior blinked and glanced at Onoki, "the name doesn't even make sense."

"Check the addendum," muttered Onoki.

Roshi did so, " 'Due to differences and difficulties in language, the holder of above name prefers to be called Kenkotsu." he glanced at Onoki again, " 'sword skill'? And why the language barrier?"

"Considering what I saw of the boy's abilities, it suits him." Responded Onoki cooly, "as for the language part...best guess is that he is originally from one of the more remote countries, where the traders don't often go, and the local dialect got pretty distorted. Continue."

Roshi shrugged and kept reading, " 'Age: Seventeen. Birthplace: Taiyo no Tani. Destroyed.' " Roshi blinked again. "I'm not familiar with the place, but if it was destroyed..." He left his comment hanging to an agreeing Onoki.

It was not common, but not exactly rare, for more secluded villages and towns, far from main trade routes and hidden villages to be attacked by organised bandits who often had a nuke-nin with them for a bit of power and heavy lifting, if they weren't the leader. Sometimes, the bandits went as far as utterly destroying a village, leaving few to any alive to recount their tale. It seemed that the kid was one of the lucky ones.

It also placed the validity on the boy's name change. The Elemental dialects sometimes became very twisted in such countries, developing along very different paths than the current dialect in vogue.

" 'Current residence...'" Roshi blinked hard as he read the entry. And again. He turned, incredulously, to the aged Kage, " 'Tetsu no Kuni?'. How the heck did an elder teen manage to get in with the samurai? Last time I checked, they are almost xenophobic and citizenship is difficult to get at the best of times." he questioned.

"It shocked me as well," nodded Onoki, "and that isn't all the surprises from that country in the file either. Check the sponsor."

Roshi flicked his eyes over the paper again, looking for the correct entry. One of the laws of the Iron country was that all outsiders were required to have a sponsor in order to enter, meaning that a merchant would actually have to know some from there and get their backing in order to sell their goods directly rather than having it pass through another's hands. This was generally administered through the Minister for Commerce in Iron, the man technically standing in for foreign merchants as their sponsor. By law, he could withdraw support from a particular merchant at any time, making them have to leave the country, by force if necessary. However, in doing that, the Minister would often open himself up for reprisals from other foreign merchants. It was a delicate balancing act and one that had huge consequences for the country's economy if he made the wrong decision.

Actual citizenship, actually planning to immigrate, to the country involved much more stringent qualifications to be met, based on the needs and wants of the country as a whole at the time, but there were some small ways to gain access.

Roshi eyes widened as he read the name, almost choking as he sputtered it out.

"Mifune?! As in _General_ Mifune?! The rival of Hanzo of the Salamander and Leader of the Iron Country?!" Roshi looked at Onoki in disbelief, "who the fuck is this kid?"

"That is what I intend to find out," the Kage said grimly, "but knowing this," he gestured at the open file, "you can understand the delicacy of the situation."

"No shit," breathed Roshi as he grabbed the bottle of sake and took a gulp, too shocked to bother with the saucers, "Mifune is good guy," reminisced the red head after plonking the bottle down, "humble, down to earth, full of integrity. Has a big thing about honour and paying one's debts, just like all samurai. He promises something and he will make it happen, no matter the cost, even if he has to shatter the world to do so." Roshi shuddered, "Fighting him on the battlefield is almost suicide. He is too damn quick with that damned sword of his. Even despite my condition," he glanced at Onoki, slightly reproachful, before continuing, "I wouldn't give myself more than five minutes before I was torn apart." He sighed heavily, "And we currently have someone that he has placed under his protection in custody." The eyes glanced at the shorter floating man, "I don't envy you Onoki, the old swordsman ain't going to be pleased."

"He isn't in custody," responded the old dwarf calmly, " I merely requested as the village leader for him to stay in the Ambassador's apartments so we can bring this debacle to a close."

Roshi grunted, "That won't fly with Mifune. Honour or not, he is still a leader of a nation and, without doubt, knows his way around the political shark pool that surrounds his court. He will sniff out the snake oil you are trying to sell him instantly."

"Perhaps," Onoki acknowledged, "However, as long as the boy is unharmed, I don't think the repercussions will be all that serious. A man of his station obviously knows the burdens of the decisions a leader has to make, no matter how unpalatable they to him personally. Appearances must be maintained after all."

"I think you need to think again, Tsuchikage-sama," Roshi retorted, making the short elderly man look at the lava user sharply, "You are dealing with _samurai_, not shinobi. If Mifune has placed the kid under his protection then it was for a damn good reason. For someone to be sponsored by the General himself is pretty damn big news, and almost unheard of. Mifune isn't one to do this sort of thing on a whim. I suggest preparing for hell to come to your door if you harm a single hair on his head. Mifune is nothing if not protective and he won't tolerate any attempt at forcing answers out of the kid, especially considering the kid helped and aided your shinobi while in the process of rescuing your own granddaughter. He won't bow to political expediency like the shinobi nations would."

The two locked eyes for a moment before Onoki turned away.

"It matters little at the moment," Onoki murmured as he looked over the early morning workings of his precious village, "the boy has assented to talk and give at least some answers later today. Hopefully, we can gain an understanding of the boy." He scowled briefly, "I don't like unknowns wandering around. They can cause too much damage to delicate operations just by being in the vicinity. Even more so with someone of that strength."

Roshi grunted in slight agreement. The kid's A-ranked chakra reserves were not anything to scoff at. Not anywhere near enough to put him on a level an Uzumaki or that rogue shark freak Kisame Hoshigaki from Mist or any high Jounin and above, but still substantial enough for him to bust out some serious high powered jutsu if he needed to. And the kid still had room to grow.

The red head turned back to the kid's file and began reading through it again.

"His passport is a bit odd," the Yoton master murmured, a finger drawn roughly and slowly down the script as he read. "Never seems to stay in a major village for more than a week or two. Often only a couple of days, sometimes only mere hours, before abruptly coming back and leaving just as quickly...Been to a lot of the more remote places as well. Bear Country. Bird. Even that little pinprick of a country out west, Boulder." He glanced up a calmly observing and hovering Tsuchikage, "It may have been a long time, but I know a Hunter's tracking log when I see one. The kid was tracking or hunting something or someone, sniffing out the trail and doubling back when it went cold." His eyes narrowed, "And you think it was the Rabbit."

"The boy used techniques I haven't ever heard of to counter the Rabbit's own unknown techniques," Onoki explained his observations, remembering the cross of light and the sickle-sword that had penetrated the Rabbit's otherwise impenetrable defences. Hopefully he could,get a possible explanation of that as well. "it looked to me that the kid was prepared and knew exactly how to kill the little prick while avoiding or going around his defences."

"And the chase ended up here of all places," Roshi said dryly, as he continued to peruse the file, "Employment History is interesting. Craftsman and repairman, specialising in wood. A few rotations as a caravan guard. Bartender. Eclectic but nothing overly concerning and it matches his passport. You would see similar histories on seasoned travellers and wandering workers that roam the Nations."

"That is also what I thought," Onoki nodded thoughtfully, "at least at first."

"Oh?" Queried the taller red head, his eyes glancing over the available history again, checking to see if he had missed something.

"Just a suspicion," the short man waved off, "I'll probably ask the boy about it in the meeting later today. I'll keep it under wraps until then."

Roshi narrowed his eyes at the Tsuchikage. The shorter male was a shrewd man, and his hunches and suspicions were generally on target. If he was playing it close to his chest, then it must be something big. Really big.

This entire situation was beginning to give him a migraine.

"This is giving me a headache," Roshi groaned out as he closed the file with a sharp snap, "the kid has too many unknowns around him and enough political pull in his corner to do some serious damage to us if we don't handle it right."

"Which is precisely why I asked you to be here," stated the Tsuchikage firmly, "after myself, you are the strongest shinobi in Iwa, followed by my son, who won't be here until close to evening, and Han, even if he was in the village, has a short and intolerant temperament which is ill suited for negotiations. I need you at my side to catch anything I might miss in the discussion. Your insight is highly valued."

Roshi scratched his beard for a moment, "I'll help," he agreed gruffly, "if only get more information about the kid who has saved the life of my goddaughter. And thank him too, of course."

Onoki nodded in gratitude briefly. "Good, I'm glad to hear that." He glanced over his village once more before turning away and floating back to into his office, "Be back at a quarter to noon. The meeting is set for high noon. Also take the folder on the boy with you and read it thoroughly. There is a lot more information in there and, hopefully, it can give you your own insight on the boy."

Onoki didn't turn around to acknowledge the gruff grunt of assent and suppressed his reflexes easily when he felt the familiar surge of a departing Shunshin.

He sighed as he fell back into his seat, and began to tediously work away at the paperwork that was the bane of every Kage's existence. Even as he perused over the request form for another shipment of metal for the village's forges to create another batch of communally supplied shinobi weapons, at the back his mind, he felt a sense of unease. One that had appeared and he had felt ever since he had laid eyes on the Rabbit bastard that had attempted to abduct his granddaughter.

It was a sense of wrongness. As if the bastard had been an aberration, an abomination, but he couldn't seem to put a finger on why, aside from the fact that he had brutally butchered several members of his village.

That wrongness persisted even after bastard's unique death, lingering like a bad smell and a thousand time worse.

All his instincts screamed at him that the one-eyed boy had something to do with that sensation. Not the cause of it, but held knowledge about it and the reason for it.

Onoki also knew, though, that some secrets were better left unsaid. But, as the guardian of his village, he couldn't afford to be ignorant.

Hopefully, the knowledge that he sort to acquire wouldn't be his downfall.

* * *

"This could be either very good or very bad." The eye-patched stated as he chewed through the perfectly cooked breakfast that he had been provided. His companion only gave a muffled grunt of absent interest as he chewed on a small raw leg roast for his own meal.

"Very good, as in it may give me a chance to get my foot in the door among the shinobi, to make sure that they know of the rising threat." He munched on the lovely rice for a moment before swallowing and taking a small sip of the excellently prepared cup of miso soup. It was not his normal breakfast fare, even from Before, but it still tasted very nice and filled the stomach. The mere hint of it's delicious smell had him falling on it like a starving beast.

After checking for any '_exotic additives' _in it first of course. He was hungry, not an idiot, and shinobi didn't exactly have a good track record of playing by the rules. He wouldn't put it past them to have doctored the food with either a form of truth serum or a delayed poison that only they had the answer to and wouldn't give to him unless he coughed up the answers they wanted.

"**And the very bad?**" Inquired the hyena summon as he paused in his ravenous devouring of the meat in front of him.

"Is what they might _do _when informed of said threat," sighed the youth, placing the chopsticks next to his finished meal. "Considering how shinobi think, what do you believe is more possible; that they show a degree of common sense and try to eliminate them? Or that they try to turn the threat into a weapon or advantage?"

"**Sucker bet,"** the hyena said bluntly before he turned back to finish his meal. It had been a while since he had such a succulent and delicious cut of meat all to himself. His sisters generally managed to get first dibs from Mother.

"Exactly," the human youth nodded as he quaffed the final dregs of the soup, sighing as the slightly bitter taste reflected his mood, "I was honestly tempted, for a moment, to let the fang face take the girl out of the city before I dispatched it. Just so I could avoid this song and dance."

Tobikotsu glanced up at that, those eerie glowing eyes, a result of the pact made between human, the Tribe and the human's benefactor, piercing the young man with a measuring stare, "**So why didn't you? Mother wouldn't have likely told you off, all of the Tribe understands the necessity for the sacrifice of one to ensure the safety of the whole. And your Boss doesn't really see the trees for the forest."**

"Complete understatement," muttered the young man as he rubbed one of his temples. Dealing with his Boss was always a chore. Even just communication with his patron was rife with cryptic words and blurred images. He had trouble thinking straight after a session with the Boss.

He shook himself back from his meandering thoughts of his Boss and struggled to find an answer to the hyena's question. Why exactly did he save the girl? It would have made his job much easier and more circumspect if he had just ambushed the pair when they were out of the city. Of course, that meant that the girl's chance at surviving dropped pretty harshly, but what was one life in the scheme of things?

His answer came almost instantly as a vision in his mind.

**_Flashback_**

_Brown hair. Vivid green eyes that looked desperate. Her voice crying out for help from where she was bound high on that tower. It was a face he knew and had sworn to the girl's mother that he would always protect her._

_He had failed once, the idiot Knights and the Beast that came behind them managing to get ahold of her._

_He flicked a switch on a large cobbled together remote he had. The subtle roar of heavy machinery filled his ears and his eyes watched carefully as a massive black metal ball on a heavy chain swung toward a gloating blonde Beast that stood over someone he called friend. _

_He moved swiftly, dropping the remote and sprinting toward the precarious tower, thunder and lightning in a hundred different hues dancing across the sky. A twitch of his shoulders had weapons, deadly and sharp, engraved arcane markings aglow, appearing in his hands as he did so. He grinned as the Beast was slammed by the crane's ball, knocking her sideways and had her teetering on the edge of a drop. The grin widened as his small blonde friend suddenly found the strength to roll to her feet, scooping up a massive hammer in the process, before slamming said weapon straight into the Beast's chest, launching the off balance Beast into the air before it started plunging toward the ground, toward where he now awaited with bloodthirsty intent._

_He had failed once._

_(His weapons sang as they cut through the air like an arrow, straight and true, to intercept their target's heart mid-air, the chains attached to the hilts unraveling quickly from his arms. They seemed to sing a dirge for blood, a steely cry of hunger.)_

_But he wouldn't fail again._

_He wouldn't let another tear fall._

**_End Flashback_**

The young man sighed slightly. Even now, worlds away from the realm of his birth, the past kept dogging his steps. The shinobi girl's eyes, despite the difference in colour, had the same look as the girl on the tower. He was a sucker for a pretty face anyway.

It must be his inner chauvinist.

"I saved her because it was the right thing to do." He responded quietly to his frequent partner, "Just because it would have been easier for me to wait, doesn't mean it would have been the _right _thing to do. 'All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing.' " he quoted at his hyena companion.

The hyena simply rolled his eyes, "**White Knight.**" The summoned creature scoffed slightly as it laid down, it's form easily flowing from it's bipedal humanoid form to a more normal (for him) bestial one, wanting a small nap to digest his meal before accompanying his summoner to a rather delicate meeting.

The young man's single eye gleamed slightly, "So I've been told," he chuckled mirthfully.

The youth merely chuckled again as a low, rhythmic rumble flowed from his partner's large chest, those glowing eyes closed, as he immediately fell into a light doze, knowing that he was safe in the youth's hands and still had the ability to awaken at a drop of a hat ready to rend and tear and fight.

'_Teenagers,' _he thought with amusement and a slow shake of his head. His partner's antics never ceased to surprise him, just like he had no doubt that his own antics from Before had done to his surrogate father figure. He could imagine the warrior/mage/librarian reaching for his glasses and a polishing cloth now.

He guessed the antics of teens, like their sheer laziness, and their elder's reactions to said antics were a universal thing. Or even beyond that.

He got up from the small dining table with a stretch, his limbs making a muted cracking and popping noise enough to make him groan in quiet relief. It may not be healthy in the long run, and lead to possible arthritis in his later years, but damn if didn't feel good now.

Besides, the people in his _real_ profession didn't exactly have the best retirement benefits, a bit like a shinobi to be honest.

He casually walked out onto the balcony of the Ambassadorial Apartment, a modest stone affair that none the less looked exquisite, grabbing a small satchel that jingled slightly as he did so. The balcony, instead of the normal wooden construction that was later attached to an outer wall that he had seen and worked on in the past, was made of the same earth and stone as the main building, the bottom of the balcony curving gently and rising enough to make a hollow in which he now stood, like a swallow's nest on a wall. It seemed to have been grown out of the wall itself, so seemless was it's flow.

It was a marvellous piece of construction, but he was more interested in the small table and chair affair that was placed in it.

He gently placed the satchel down and withdrew it's contents.

A half shaved block of wood, thicker than his arm and about as long, was withdrawn with a quick burst of chakra despite the rules of physics being defied if one compared the dimensions of the block of wood against the satchel.

'_The wonders of Fuuinjutsu_,' The youth laughed gently to himself.

A second application to his 'magic bag' had withdrawing an obviously well used, but well cared for, knife. A little too short and stubby to be used as a dagger and with only a single sharpened edge and a thin point, it was obviously, while sharp, never destined for the battlefield or combat.

Instead of a tool of death and destruction, it's primary use was in creation.

With smile on his lips, the youth whittles and stroked and carved away at the block of wood. Each stroke peeling away a curl of wood from it's original spot, like a kitchen hand peeling a potato. Each cut shaping the wood to his design.

He still had quite a few hours until the meeting and, despite it's rather grim and heavy nature, there was nothing that worrying about it now would achieve. What was done, was done. He would just have to deal with the consequences and decide just how much of the truth he should reveal to the old Kage.

His hands worked through out the morning as his mind stayed agile. His thoughts and plans of action would soon be put to the test. Hopefully, his own explanations could get him out of the slightly hot water that he was now in.

Hopefully.

* * *

Kurotsuchi knocked firmly on the wooden portal to one of the many Ambassadorial Suites.

Again.

For the fifth time.

Her face was scowling heavily despite how much she tried to reign it in. For the past ten minutes she had been, politely, rapping on the chamber doors.

Only to receive no response.

She gritted her teeth firmly, her smile all teeth and like a lion's jaws before they crushed their prey, and knocked (read: banged heavily enough to almost dent the wood.) again. Was this guy deaf or something? Was he utterly ignoring anything and everything?

Her face flushed and fumed with the insult. How dare he! The man knew he was going to be summoned by the Tsuchikage at this time, Akatsuchi had ensured that the man knew the night before! This was a blatant insult and complete disrespect for her Kage!

It would not be tolerated.

Her eyes burning, she flicked through a few hand seals.

If the Buddha won't come to the mountain...

"Doton: Vajra no jutsu." She intoned, the skin of her hands slowly darkening, becoming black and shiny, like stone. She reared back her hand, ready to shake the very walls with her 'knocking'..

"Kurotsuchi-sama?"

Only to freeze still for a moment as she heard the softly puzzled voice of a female coming from directly behind her.

She spun around to the source of the voice, slightly shocked that someone had been able to creep up on her, only to met with the puzzled and worried face of one of the maids that served the Ambassador's Quarters. In the hands of the older and taller female, were dishes, dirty ones, that one would use in order to dine on breakfast foods.

"Are you alright, Kurotsuchi-sama?" The lady, quite a beautiful one with her heart shaped face and her dusky smooth skin, asked.

"I'm just fine," the kunouichi said with a slight flush, embarrassed that she had almost been caught losing her temper at a simple door, then glared at it as the shining blackness that had folded over the skin of her fist faded. "I was about to knock more firmly just to ensure that our..._guest_ finally got the message to open it."

The servant blinked in confusion, "But there is no one in that apartment to give a message to."

Kurotsuchi froze again, her pink eyes wide in shock. "B-but," she spluttered, "we have a guest in these rooms! The tray you carry is proof of that!"

The maid nodded in assent before gesturing to the half opened door behind her that she had evidently just exited. Kurotsuchi felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and her face began to flush in embarrassment as what had just happened hit her fully. "The guest is in _these_ rooms."

Kurotsuchi wanted nothing more than for the earth to rise up an swallow her, just to get her away from the embarrassment. The only thing that could be worse about this situation is...

"Get lost a bit, Kurotsuchi-san?" Another voice was heard from down the hall, a slightly mocking and very familiar voice. One that she didn't want to hear at this point in time.

Damn it!

"Akatsuchi-sama," the maid said to the tall newcomer with a small bow of respect, easily balancing the tray she held as she did so with skill born from experience and practice, "if you would excuse me? I have other duties to attend."

Without saying another word, the woman gently closed the door to the occupied apartment and swiftly swept down the hall, her heels clicking sharply with every step.

Kurotsuchi said nothing as the maid left, feeling the amused, bordering on hysterically laughing, eyes of her grandfather's frequent companion/bodyguard.

"Not. A. Single. Word." She growled heavily to the approaching man as she turned towards the other room, the only one that was actually occupied. Oh how her father would react if he heard of this mistake!

She knocked, more firmly than was polite, on the door as Akatsuchi came along side.

"Dare I ask why you are here?" She murmured quietly as she awaited the door to be answered. Her sixth sense, the situational awareness trait that told you if you were being watched, told her that there was movement within. An improvement over the last one.

"Tsuchikage-sama was wondering what was taking so long," the male shinobi whispered back, leaning forwards a fair bit so as to bring his round chin in line with her ears.

Kurotsuchi scowled slightly at the mocking tone in the comment but didn't have time to act any further as the door opened to reveal the man from yesterday, her apparent saviour, bedecked just as he had been the day before.

"Oh," the man said as his single eye came to a rest on them, a slight sliver of surprise flashing through the deep brown orb. The eye then focused on the lurking form of Akatsuchi directly behind her. "I take it your here to escort me?"

"We are, Kenkotsu-san" the older shinobi said without preamble, getting straight to the point, "if you would please follow us?"

"A moment," the man, one she now knew to be named Kenkotsu (an interesting, descriptive and, judging by what she had seen yesterday, very accurate name.) turned back, grabbing a satchel that had placed just behind the door and throwing the strap over his shoulder. "Tobi-kun!" He also called, and was answered immediately by the scrabble of claws on stone.

"**I'm here," **a voice growled, revealing it to be from the grizzled throat of the bipedal summon as he quickly appeared at the side of his summoner. His glowing eyes were wide and alert, his snout slightly raised to catch even the smallest hint of a scent, as he took a position close to his summoner, protecting him from anything.

The youth nodded and then stepped out of the room, his summon looming behind like a massive guardian, his deadly spear clenched in his clawed fist.

"Let us go then," the man said with a small smile, making her blush inwardly. On his rather rough exterior, his face square and rugged, more real, rather than fine and sharp, like a noble's, it looked like a warm smile. A true one that had no other agenda than to express the man's own emotions or thoughts rather than trying to sway another's for their own gain.

It made her feel a strange warmth inside. Strange, but not unwelcome or unpleasant.

The walk to her grandfather's office was silent as they travelled along the roads rather than hopping over the rooftops. The stares from the citizens as they passed by, their attention generally drawn to the tall and inhuman form of the summon. Some shrewder or more knowledgable civilians also noticed the, not exactly inconspicuous, form of Kenkotsu, with hints of recognition thrown in for flavour. Muted whisperings followed them, but none of them paid them any mind.

Soon they had reached the Spire, the heart of Iwagakure and the hub of the shinobi portion of the population. They were let through without a word, the hidden sensor-nin that Kurotsuchi _knew _were there but couldn't actually find indicating that they were the real deal by some code sign if she was guessing correctly, and were then ascending the spiralling path that lead up the interior of what could be called a giant stalagmite.

Not that she would ever cheapen her village by saying it out loud, at least when in the presence of veritable strangers.

Soon the high and twisting stairs slowly became more and more level, the steps more like a gently sloping path rather than the veritable ladder they had been just before then.

"Tsuchikage-sama's office is just ahead," Akatsuchi said in a hushed tone to the youth and his summoned companion. "Be respectful to him."

"I will keep that in mind," the one eyed man said quietly and Kurotsuchi couldn't help but feel her hackles stand on end as she glanced at him, a subvocal growl just reaching her ears from the tall summon at his side, the creature's glowing green eyes staring forward, fixed on just one point in the air and never wavering a jot.

Gone was the warm and seemingly kind young man that had been there before, his weathered and handsome features exuding a sense of normality and steadfastness that one rarely sees in an inhabitant of the fast paced and ever-changing world of a shinobi.

Now there stood a man of strength. Tightly corded muscles, hidden beneath the emblazoned and voluminous long coat, tensed and ready. His face was like stone, set and determined, with the lone brown eye looking sharply in the same direction as his summon, emerald flecks burning. His fingers flexed as if they were gripping something already.

He was preparing to fight, Kurotsuchi realised, her own hands dropping towards her belt pouch for a weapon even if she knew that it would do little good. Kenkotsu's own skill and power was much higher than hers currently was, she would be quickly overwhelmed and killed in mere moments she it come to melee combat.

She felt Akatsuchi also tense and shift. Whether it was to prepare himself to attack physically or to summon up his stone soldiers she didn't know or care. Just as long as she knew that he was prepared to fight.

Her mind worked furiously as she tried to figure out what had set him off. It was like a switch had been thrown. But who or what was it that had thrown the switch?

Thankfully, the man spoke, his voice hard and unyielding, his thoughts.

"I was under the impression that the discussion that I would have with your leader would be private." He spoke slowly, his eye never leaving the position it was in, pointing towards her grandfather's office she realised with a jolt. His cold brown eye left the position it had been for a moment, before turning to her, those emerald flecks within it suddenly looking like flames set to consume her.

"It is," she nodded, her eyes widening at what might have set him off. Having been forced to practically stay the night, even if it had been in rather luxurious surrounds, the fact that he was walking into the lion's den and finding out that the lion wasn't alone probably had him a little spooked. It would be up to her to put him at least slightly at ease. "but surely you understand that advisors are sometimes necessary, especially considering the current delicacy of the situation?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her, as if saying to 'pull the other one."

"A man who's chakra practically _reeks _of lava and destruction is relegated to the role of a mere 'advisor'?" He asked skeptically.

"He is an old friend of the Tsuchikage," noted Akatsuchi as he, too, tried to defuse the situation. "Regardless of his more commonly known skills, and desire to stay out of the limelight, he is still someone who has Lord Onoki's almost complete trust and his word carries a great deal of weight with Lord Tsuchikage."

The man narrowed his eye, looking fierce, and the summon at his side growled audibly, deeper and more menacing, before his summoner placed a hand on his furred arm, halting the being from acting.

"You will forgive me if I don't whole heartedly believe you," the man spoke harshly, "Your Kage's reputation precedes him...as does the rest of those who hold the title of 'Shinobi'."

Kurotsuchi had to fight a wince. There was some degree of truth to the man's words. Her grandfather wasn't known as the 'Fence Sitter' for nothing. And shinobi were all taught to take advantage of anything that they got a hold of when they were still in the Academy.

Before she could possibly voice something that would either help of hinder the situation (most likely hinder as she didn't have clue what she could possibly say about the man's comment.) though, the man continued, with a sigh.

"But," he spoke, slight resignation in his brown eye as tension drained from his form, "I guess I have no choice but to trust you all, for now." Her flicked an eye at his summon, meeting the creature's surprised gaze for a moment, before the beast, too, relaxed.

Kurotsuchi felt her own tension ease and felt Akatsuchi give a quiet sigh of relief. "Then let us proceed," she said and then continued to lead the way, showing her vulnerable back to Kenkotsu and his dangerous summon, Akatsuchi a mere step behind and the guests of her grandfather bringing up the rear.

She kept her face forward as she lead them all around the final turn. That had been far too close. She could feel the cold sweat on her palms and forehead, even as she fought the instinct to turn around. No shinobi like showing their back to anyone, especially someone that they didn't wholeheartedly trust. It was the ultimate show of said trust, or contempt, to do so. And she had been forced to make that choice so as to put the man at ease. Thankfully she wasn't alone in her discomfort and Akatsuchi had followed her example wordlessly.

She stopped to admire the portal to her grandfather's office as she did every time she ended up there, for whatever reason. The sight of it never failed to captivate her.

Instead of wood, the door that lead to the most powerful being and ruler of Iwagakure no Sato was made of pure dark stone. It was an arched double door affair, made to open inward and down the middle, meaning that any who attempted to invade the office via said door would have blind spots from where they could be picked off. Not to mention the sheer weight of the doors meant that only the most physically powerful of shinobi could even think about opening it.

The door on the left hand side was a work of art. Carved deeply into it were various designs of various creatures from myth and legend, each of them symbol's of might and power. Oni with their massive clubs glared at the viewer of the carvings with their fanged fierce faces. Two dragons wound themselves around the edge of that particular door, twisting together to almost form one. Mighty bears who were seen as gods themselves in various circles, such was the reverence of their power among humanity. Majestic tigers roaring and, above them, the wings of Suzaku stroking the air with it's vast and powerful wingbeats.

It was an elaborate and breath taking carving, one that was reputedly done by the Null Man, the Second Tsuchikage Mu, himself with careful and precise application of his Dust Release.

However, for all it's elaborateness and stunning detail, as if the creatures depicted were almost alive, it was the other door that moved her more.

The right hand door was remarkably plain, in contrast to the left one. It depicted a simple scene, of a rocky plain heading towards two mountains in the distance, the outlines of them remarkably looking like the designs on the headbands of all Iwa shinobi. And hovering just above those two mountains, was a sun, beaming it's glorious light over the harsh, barren and yet beautiful plain.

And inside that carved sun, one could see the flames of it merging to form a single symbol. The symbol of Earth. Of Iwa.

She smiled slightly at it. For all it's simplicity, the carving of the plain held a wealth of meaning. The rocky plain symbolised the harsh life of a shinobi, a life of struggle and pain with hints of beauty, no matter how stark, appearing every now and then. The mountains symbolised why a shinobi did what they did, why there bore the burdens of their job; to safe guard their home, their people, their comrades in arms.

The sun represented their reward at the end of their life, their due payment for their life of sacrifice and blood. It represented remembrance, memory and understanding. No matter how much time passed, or what anyone else thought, the shinobi would be remembered and respected for everything he had done, that the truth would always be known, even if it was to just but a mere precious few.

Iwa would not turn on it's own.

She shook herself from her introspection and knocked firmly on the stone doors, making them boom hollowly through the winding hall and into the heart of Iwa, where the strongest of them dwelled, waiting like a dragon in it's cave.

"Enter." A rough voice spoke, one that made her eyes light up in slight joy. It was not her grandfather, but someone she knew well and saw as an uncle. She hadn't seen him in a while.

Eagerly, she set her arms onto the doors and _pushed._

Straining, the doors moved slowly, grating deeply at they rubbed against the rough stone floor. Her muscles worked hard, pushing them further and further. Six inches. A foot.

Even with her chakra helping her, it was an effort. But Iwa produced no weak shinobi. She was strong enough, hardy enough, to do this. She is stone. Stone endures. Stone lasts. Stone is determination personified. And no mere door would stop her!

With a forceful grunt and a surge of chakra, the doors glided open as they left her hands, slowly and not without a deep grinding groan but they did. It was something that few shinobi could pulled off at her current rank.

As the doors opened wide, stopping entirely at full ninety degrees from where they had been, she was met immediately with a familiar sight.

Behind the heavy stone desk of crimson, her grandfather sat calmly, his personal chair lifting his head clearly over the desk to a normal human's height. His gaze was hard and calculating, with a glimmer of pride in them as they took her in briefly before moving on to the others behind her, the eyes of a Kage meeting an unknown variable, prepared for any nasty surprises that might appear.

This was the Leader of Iwa, the Tsuchikage, as stern and unbending as the mountains. A man without weakness or fear with a heart as hard as the element many of his soldiers wielded.

And at his side, standing behind the Tsuchikage, a man with red locks of hair with a deep red beard and moustache stood proudly, his eyes stern (the visage breaking for a moment to wink subtilely at her, making her suppress an honest smile at the man's mischievous antics.) and watchful.

It was so unlike the man she knew as her godfather that it threw her for a loop for a brief moment of time.

"About time," her grandfather said coldly, eying them all, the summon and summoner in particular, "you were almost late and kept me waiting," his eyes narrowed, "I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Forgive me, Tsuchikage-sama," Kurotsuchi said formally, bowing her head in respect and submission. This was not the time for conduct between family members, this was a time for Generals and subordinates. "I take full responsibility for the time wasted."

Her grandfather's eyebrow rose slightly, "We will talk about it later," he said firmly, his eyes leaving her to pierce the forms of the slightly tense hyena and his summoner, "There are more important things to discuss."

The Tsuchikage gestured to a set of chairs that were in front of his desk, while his other hand gestures to Kurotsuchi, his fingers flicking in subtle code.

"Please take a seat," he said audibly to the guests of Iwa.

'_Move. Guard. Perimeter. Silent. Remain.' _He flicked out his orders to her.

She said nothing, moving to the sides of the room while Akatsuchi went to the opposite wall, as she took her ordered post within it, a silent observer for what would happen from now on.

She watched as Kenkotsu crossed the intervening space between the door and the chairs, slipping into it's heavy wooden embrace smoothly, while his summon took a guarding position a little back from the chair, far enough that he was able to keep a glowing eye on all of them at once, and leaned almost casually on the spear he held, a foreign look of boredom on his bestial face.

She wasn't fooled by the casual demeanour. Nor was anyone else.

Then the meeting began.

* * *

"First of all," Roshi heard Onoki intone formally, drawing himself slightly up and placing intertwined hands and fingers in front of him on the old stone table, propping them up on his small elbows, "I wish to extend my gratitude towards you," Onoki smiled slightly in approval at the young man, a mere curve of a lip but more than many could claim to have gained from the old man. "Without your efforts, many of my shinobi might have been lost in conflict with the mongrel that dared to attack us. Not the least being my own granddaughter who your summon happened to save from his grasp."

The kid's face became visibly shocked, his lone brown eye widening slightly, glancing toward the wall where Kurotsuchi now stood, "Your granddaughter?" He questioned, glancing to Roshi's goddaughter and back to the Tsuchikage several times swiftly, as if disbelieving. Roshi couldn't help but snort inwardly in amusement.

The two looked nothing alike.

"She gets her looks from my daughter-in-law," Onoki said flatly, making his granddaughter flush slightly but still stay unmoving and quiet. Good. It seems that she was able to keep her disciplined if necessary.

"I-it was of no moment, Lord Tsuchikage," the kid said, slightly off balance from the revelation. It made the shinobi part of the red head sit up and pay attention. Off balance meant vulnerable. Vulnerability meant opportunity. "I would have done the same for others."

"Perhaps," Onoki said softly, his eyes cool as they observed the boy, "but the fact remains that I owe you a debt for saving the life of one of my line." The eyes then hardened again. Flinty as the Wastes that lay to the west of Iwa. "But the discussion of my repayment for your actions will be for another time. More important matters need to be discussed. Namely just _what _has caused you to enter my village and _what _had happened to that mongrel that dared to lay a hand on my family and kill some of my citizens? Answers to these you have, don't deny it!" The Tsuchikage cut off the boy as he went to speak, the elder man's face flushing as his voice rose, "A threat has come to my threshold and I have found myself unable to defend it! That is something that I can not abide, that no Kage worth calling that can abide!" By now he was shouting, the air seeming to shimmer as a result of the short man releasing his control over his chakra and his killing intent, creating an atmosphere of death and dread.

Roshi weathered the storm. He had felt worse over the years and the old man wasn't filled with rage, just frustration and anger. He was barely even affected.

Akatsuchi and Kurotsuchi, however, had trouble keeping themselves standing, no doubt feeling like they were just being crushed beneath the entire mountain range of Iron Country, a reflection of the Tsuchikage's true power. That they hadn't fallen yet was a tribute to their own strength and potential.

The hyena kept himself steady, no longer standing around in a lounging position, with his spear gripped tight and muscles tense and ready to move, his glowing eyes showing surprise, determination and dread. He knew he was outmatched, that he would be killed if fighting erupted, but he would still do his level best to defend his summoner before he was put down.

The kid, however, much to Roshi's surprise was unmoved.

Oh he was leaning back in shock, no doubt surprised at the volume and vehemence that Onoki had put in his words, but he was still steady as a rock. His limbs didn't shiver in fright like many would, causing battle reflexes to slow down, making them easy pickings for their enemy. His lone eye was widened but not frightened. It was a controlled and, more importantly, experienced reaction. The kid had been on the receiving end of stronger killing intent before and had shrugged it off. Onoki's was just water off of a duck's back for him.

Impressive. But it did bring to mind where, and who from, he had encountered the stronger killing intent. Onoki's current amount, while barely even half of what he could muster under optimum circumstances, was still more than many jounin could generate in their lifetime.

Yet another question that Roshi would looking into.

"Even worse," Onoki _hissed, _his intent spiking but his voice lowering, becoming controlled, reining in his volatile temper, and somehow seeming to be all the more menacing for it, "I have reason to believe that that mongrel even appearing in my village was a direct result of your actions."

Kenkotsu's eye widened, along with Kurotsuchi's, and both were accompanied by Akatsuchi's gasp. They hadn't expected that.

"Do you deny it?" The Fence Sitter said coldly, his face hard than the stones his village was named after.

"No I don't deny it. Not entirely," Kenkotsu said sharply, his own face now stony, "I will fully admit I was hunting him, that's the truth, but I was waylaid about a week ago by some of his compatriots and was forced to make the decision to heal up for a while before hunting him down again." The lad snarled, sounding like an animal, and the boy's own killing intent filled the air, a wispy one that felt like fangs were hidden in the darkness around you that you couldn't see, just waiting for you to let your guard down. It somehow seemed both more subtle and far more ominous than the straight out aggression and bloodlust the majority of shinobi use for their killer intent. "I wasn't expecting him to try and enter any of the villages despite his own apparent strength. Those like him don't like to risk their own necks unless they have no other option, and facing a shinobi on their own turf is asking for trouble, no matter how strong they are." The weapon using boy sighed heavily, his killing intent slowly ebbing even as the Tsuchikage's own did. "It was a mistake and others, innocents, paid for it. But it was, with the information and knowledge I had, the best choice available." He scowled, "at least I had thought so."

Roshi's eyebrows rose slightly. The way the lad said those words...

Onoki glared at the young man, angry and furious but didn't say anything for a moment, letting the tense silence between the two of them stretch out. Roshi could understand his Kage's silence. Much as he wanted to be angry with the lad, Roshi and Onoki both knew that, sometimes, even the best laid plans can go astray. The lad had made a call based on previous experience, only for the call to be perhaps not that beat one...at least for others.

Roshi remembered times when he had to make such tough calls, and he knew Onoki still made them everyday as a Kage. And each of them had also made ones that, in hindsight, were arguably worse. People, their people, had died as a result of those decisions, but none of the survivors of such debacles blamed them for what had happened...at least not after they had taken the time to cool down and their emotions weren't running high.

They couldn't really berate the young man and not be hypocrites.

"I am sure that the families of those that felt the bastard's hands on their necks for the last time in their short lives will find vindication in your admittance of guilt," Onoki said sarcastically.

Roshi grimaced slightly, sometimes Onoki didn't care if he sounded like a hypocrite.

To Roshi's surprise, the young man simply shrugged where he sat, almost dismissive of the scathing retort.

"What else is new," the youth responded bluntly, "I did what I could do...but, sometimes, it just isn't enough." That brown eye hardened, Roshi blinking as he saw flecks of green seem to glow, to burn, within the boy's iris, "Especially against him and his ilk." He muttered.

Roshi now frowned. There it was again. The way the boy phrased those words...it was like he didn't see the bastard as an equal, as an enemy to face, as human being.

No. The way he said it showed an impulse to destroy that which he saw as wrong. That the bastard that had dared to lay a hand on his goddaughter was lower than filth in his eye. That he was an abomination and trash.

That he didn't even have the slightest degree of humanity.

"And this 'ilk' would be what?" Questioned the Tsuchikage sharply, his eyes like knives as he too caught the young man's wording, finding it strange, and was determined to find out what the cryptic young man meant in saying them.

Kenkotsu seemed to freeze slightly, his visage suddenly showing uncertainty and a large degree of nervousness. Roshi grunted silently. Finally, it seemed that they had been able to find the crux of the complex and baffling issue.

The lad's eye wavered and his mouth twitched and worked silently, as if he wasn't sure what to say. Thankfully, his summon decided to speak for him.

"**What do you know of the lore of Demons?**" The hyena said quietly, his glowing eyes suddenly shining brighter, looking otherworldly and off-putting.

The question ran through the suddenly silent air like a thunderclap as all the shinobi of Iwa tried to divine the reasons for the question while another part of them, deep down, chilled into ice.

Roshi could also feel a slight increase of temperature in his chakra and sudden surges of power in his chakra vessels as his power source spluttered and spurted like a kinked hose.

The damn ape was suddenly listening _very _intently in on the conversation.

* * *

Tobikotsu raised a slight eyebrow at the slack jawed and flummoxed expressions of the humans from Stone. The Leader, in particular, looked rather comical with his small statue, large red nose, elderly appearance and his jaw hanging down heavily on his stone desk.

Was the question really so strange? Surely they knew of other demons aside from the Bijuu, who had long been locked up in various ways over the last century, didn't they? We're humans truly so ignorant of the world around them that they only paid attention if it came out of the scrub nearing weapons and howling loudly?

Then again he couldn't talk, nor could the rest of the Tribe. It had taken horrors of the ancient past actually falling on top of them, and a spine chilling berating from a deity, for them to all have their eyes opened to the horrible truth.

"Demons?" Questioned the small old man, the leader of this den of humanity, his voice almost scoffing and irate. "You meant the Bijuu correct? And what do they have to do with this?"

Tobikotsu fought not to roll his eyes in his sockets, but it was a close thing. Humanity and their closed minds and hearts. Is it any wonder that they broke out into all out war pretty much every two decades or so? Such a bloodthirsty race. They could give some of the demons he had hunted along side his summoner and friend a run for their money in regards to the callousness towards their fellow being and their eternal coveting of more power.

"No," his summoner spoke up, his gaze boring into the short leader of the stone village, his friend having finally recovered his composure. "I do _not _mean the Bijuu, they aren't even demons at all, despite the labels given to them by the majority of a frightened and scared humanity." The hyena noticed the red headed man behind the short leader wince slightly, holding a hand to his temple, at that point, "I mean the others, the ones you hear about in old tales, told around a fire to scare your friends. Those beings that inhabit terrible myths and horrible legends, the stuff that nightmares are made off. The ones that you wish are never real, that you believe are not real...but actually are."

His summoner's eye shifted over to the tense and flabbergasted form of the one he had saved the day before, "Kurotsuchi-san was almost a victim of one such being barely a day ago."

His summoner's statement was met with disbelieving silence only briefly before the short leader lost his temper, his face flushing a dark red.

"Preposterous!" The Tsuchikage exploded, his aura of power flaring and filling the air with it's strength. Tobikotsu couldn't help but since slightly as the scent of the old man's power struck his sensitive nose. Short old man or not, this Tsuchikage was still extremely powerful. The sheer amount of chakra that Tobikotsu could sense that he had was almost ridiculous to be contained in such a small body. He wasn't someone that you wanted to trifle with, surviving the experience would be a chore and a half.

"You expect me, the Tsuchikage," the one called Onoki began to say slowly, exerting every once of his power in every word that passed his lips. "To believe that the mongrel that dared to touch my precious granddaughter," a closed file floated from near the edge of the man's desk into his stubby arms and was then brandished like a club towards his brother/summoner, "that a mongrel who's file, while perhaps out of date, I have in hand, which is filled with the bastard's overall knowledge and skill level directly from his own village, was in fact a demon?"

The way it was drawled out made the hyena think that the short old man was questioning their intelligence.

"Not quite," Kenkotsu acknowledged with a short nod of his head, "but close." His eye locked firmly with the disdainful angry Tsuchikage's, the man no doubt taking the information he was given as an insult. Thankfully, his brother in arms seemed to be willing to ensure that the old man didn't blow _them _up. "You have gone over the scene of the battle with scans from your investigators yes? Checking for residue chakra and other possible avenues of evidence?"

The Tsuchikage frowned, "They have, as per standard procedure in the majority of shinobi villages," he said cautiously, his eyes focused on the hyena's summoner.

"Did you find nothing strange with area?" His partner went in pressing the Kage. Where exactly was he going with this? "Something odd that stood out or, rather, _wasn't even there?"_

The Tsuchikage's eyes suddenly widened, his shirt back stiffening and his face filled with a realisation, "The chakra residue," the Kage breathed, his hands suddenly shooting towards a small pile of paper, thumbing through it for a moment before grunting in satisfaction.

"Onoki?" Queried the, before now, silent red head behind the elderly dwarf. Obviously he was somewhat surprised by the old man's actions himself.

"It was in the reports I received earlier this morning," the Tsuchikage said distractedly, his finger sliding down a page as he looked for a specific passage. "The sensors I sent in to scan the scene mentioned something unusual," he grunted in satisfaction as his thick finger halted near the end of the page, "You know how the vast majority of jutsu leave marks behind? Bits of loose chakra that cling to a landscape, object or person due to lack of complete chakra control? That many trackers and forensics-nin use to identify the type of jutsu used in combat?"

"Of course," answered the red head with slight intrigue, "it is common knowledge."

"Well the forensics scans from the battle in the plaza came back a little odd," the old Tsuchikage placed the report to the side and looked at the one eyed youth with narrowed eyes. "They were able to identify the dregs of chakra of various of our shinobi who had attacked the Rabbit, they were also able to identify the unique chakra of our companion and his summon from tests and exposure." The eyes narrowed even more, mere slits in his round face.

"However, they were completely unable to find even the smallest trace of the Rabbit's chakra, which should have been there in an overwhelming amount due to the chakra he would have needed to erect and maintain that damnable barrier."

The red headed man who smelt of burning rock whistled slightly in surprise and shock.

The old man's gaze never wavered from his summoner and friend, "How did you know this? Something like that should, by all rights, be absolutely impossible. No one has, or even can have, the chakra control necessary to completely eliminate jutsu residue as it is being cast."

Kenkotsu didn't smile or smirk as he answered the question, "It wasn't jutsu that the one you call Rabbit cast." His eye was grim and cold, that deep brown darkening to an almost black and the flecks of green burning in his lone visible orb. "It was magic."

* * *

Onoki stared at his guest, one that was quickly wearing out his welcome with his nonsensical answers and vapid delusions.

He couldn't believe that the boy had actually said that to him. Magic? He expected him to believe that cock and bull, smoke and mirrors, superstition and blood story? He must be crazy.

"You expect me-" he began, only to be cut off by the brat.

"Were there sensors amongst the crowd at the conflict?" The brat said abruptly, making him halt his tirade.

"Yes, but that-" he answered and began to continue, only to be interrupted again.

"Did they sense the use of chakra from the one you refer to as the Rabbit?" The brat kept up his dogged questions.

It was annoying as all hell, but the way the brat asked the question made him pause, his mind flicking over the context of dozens of witness reports he had been forced to peruse.

There were reports about the barrier and it's strength and seeming utility, along with suggestions to either look into it's origins or attempt to reverse engineer it. Onoki could agree that it would be quite a boon to have access to such a unique, useful and versatile barrier.

There were also eyewitness reports of the bastard dragging away his granddaughter and grievously wounding his daughter-in-law. Reports from the guards around his family noting that they never sensed the bastard and only knew that there was trouble when the bastard had blasted open the door to his granddaughter's home to exit the premises.

But none of the reports mentioned sensing the Rabbit's chakra. Something that should have been impossible considering one of the greatest sensors in Iwa had been assigned to guard his family.

Onoki suddenly felt a frission of unease in his gut as he glanced at various reports strewn around his desk.

_Upon sight of the target...having heard the cries...felt the unexpected barrier...surprised by the now confirmed suspect..._

These lines leapt out of the reports. Each of them _not _saying the exact same thing. That none of them had sensed the Rabbit via chakra sensing.

The feeling in his gut got worse.

Maintaining his composure as best as he could, he answered the youth in front of him, his face like the element his village was represented by, "According to the reports...no, they did not."

Quiet descended between all within the chamber, as everyone tried to come to terms with what he had just confirmed. And it frightened his shinobi, and him as well.

Putting aside the possible delusions of the boy, of demons and so called magic, he had just confirmed that a shinobi of a foreign village, missing-nin or not, was capable of being completely undetectable to chakra sensing, to the point that even his jutsu were unfelt.

It was a frightening prospect. Even his mentor, Mu, didn't have such capabilities. Mu could remove his physical presence and erase his chakra signature, but only when his technique, Dustless Bewildering Cover, was active and he couldn't keep it up and perform ninjutsu at the same time.

This Rabbit, on the other hand, seemed to be _naturally_ undetectable by chakra means and, even worse, his jutsu were also undetectable, making him a dire threat to just about any shinobi, who often relied on that flicker of released chakra being felt to evade otherwise deadly jutsu thrown at them.

Onoki could only count his blessings that the threat had been eliminated before it had gotten even worse.

...Or had it?

He frowned slightly. If he took the boy's words as truth, no matter how outlandish and stupid he actually thought them to be, and read between the lines, a more disturbing picture began to painted in his mind.

He held back from voicing it at that moment, as he let more pieces of the puzzle fall into place in the back of his mind, and kept questioning the boy before him, shifting his face into a derisive mask, adding a snort for good measure.

"Just because the Rabbit wasn't detected by my shinobi, it doesn't mean that the little shit was a demon or was using some fancy mumbo jumbo," he grunted, leaning slightly back in his chair, easing the strain on his back. His face twisted into a scowl, "I still think that this just a whole cock and bull story that you have just pulled out of your arse." His eyes gleamed with a hint of malice, a subtle feeling of menace filling the air in the office, "if you had any other reference other than Iron Country and Mifune, I would have said that you were a poorly trained spy for one of the other villages trying to get into my good books with an outlandish plan so unbelievable that no real spy would use it, thus throwing off suspicions that you could be one." The menace grew but, to Onoki's begrudging approval, the boy still stayed unmoved in the face of his possible ire, "I'm still not fully convinced of that your not."

The boy just seemed to sigh and slump at his words, his face dropping into his hands, sounding more than a little exasperated. His summon behind him gave a low and shirt cackle.

"I know that Mifune-sama said that you shinobi would be skeptical and suspicious," the boy murmured, "but you are really taking the whole sweet shop, forget the cake."

"**I told you as well, my friend," **the summon said with a grin.

"Quiet Tobi," the kid said tiredly, "Look," the kid said bluntly, looking like he was at the end of his tether, "whether you believe me or not, I honestly find myself unable to care at the moment, as it's obvious that you wouldn't accept the truth if were to dance naked in front of you, with a napkin on it's head and singing 'Kumbaya'. The last week has been utter _hell_ for me with tracking that slimeball down and just want it to end. What would it take for you to get off my back and let me do my own thing?" He was scowling heavily, his face becoming more worn and rugged, like a weathered and experienced warrior annoyed with bureaucracy, a look that didn't seem to fit his otherwise youthful, if rough, face.

Some of the references made by the boy flew over Onoki's head, but he easily understood what the boy was saying, and he wasn't pleased.

"Watch your tongue, boy," he warned, "I may not be able to do anything more than place you under house arrest thanks to your links with Mifune, but you can be damned sure that I will get the truth about what happened to my village, my _family, _if it is the last damned thing I do!" He growled loudly, sounding like an enraged lion despite his small stature, "My daughter-in-law was nigh _eviscerated_ by the fucking bastard that you killed and I still don't have any answers, except for the bullshit story that your spewing!" He barked an angry laugh, "Demons! Magic! Bah!" He waved a hand in dismissal, "Your an insane little twit!"

**_"Really now?"_** An unfamiliar and cold voice spoke from in the room, making Onoki freeze in his rant. Roshi stiffened violently, practically leaping out his chair into a battle position, his palms glowing red hot with his chakra. The other two Iwa-nin also took battle positions, kunai in hand, as they scanned the room for the source of the voice.

In contrast to the actions of the ninja, the two guests of Iwa's reactions were far more sedate.

The hyena summon stiffened briefly, before bowing his head deeply, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck in an age old gesture of submission. "**My lord,**" the hyena spoke with deep respect and, dare Onoki think it, a little fear to the suddenly bone chillingly cold air.

The brat, however, had the more casual reaction. His brown eye tilted up, looking up to a point in the air above Onoki's desk. "Hey, Boss," he greeted, "Been a while."

"**_And I wish it was longer,_**" the voice spoke, cold and rattling, like death itself given a voice, with slight amusement. Then the speaker revealed itself.

Slowly, as if it had all the time in the world, dust rose from the floor, gathering in the air above his desk. As it did so, the shadows suddenly seemed to grow darker and expand, the lights from both flame and bulb dimming, weakening, as if it was being devoured.

The air also to grow thicker, becoming an invisible weight around them all, even as the temperature dropped, the sudden pants of breath from his shinobi becoming coils of mist. Ice crawled along the walls of stone, like crystalline vines winding themselves over a trestle, star bursts of the frigid material appearing every so often like blooming flowers.

Multiple exclamations of 'Kai!' along with bursts of chakra went around the chamber as all the Iwa-nin tried to cancel the illusion that was invading their senses.

"**_Oh I wouldn't bother to keep doing that,"_** the voice drawled as the dust kept gathering, coming in through the windows and under the door, streams of the fine material flowing through the air like snakes, and began to take shape. "**_I am no mere illusion that your kind are so fond of using._**" The voice coldly chuckled, making the hairs on the back of Onoki's neck stand on end at the grating sound, like the door of a mausoleum opening from the inside. "**_I am something much, much WORSE._**"

The dust had now formed the vague shape of a large humanoid being hovering over his desk, stretching up to reach the conical ceiling twenty feet above. It's form was gradually gaining cohesion, the dust packing tighter, coming closer together.

The younger shinobi stepped back, intimidated by the sight, but, much to Onoki's pride, didn't flee and held their ground in the face of this spectacle. Roshi's reaction, on the other hand, caused the Tsuchikage a great deal of concern.

The red head was staring at the collection of dust mote's with absolute _terror._ His hands had gone slack and his chakra run wild, his concentration and focus broken from the primal fear that surged beneath his now chalk pale skin. His eyes were wide with knowledge and horror. The lava user knew what this was, and he was afraid of it more than anything else. His mouth worked soundlessly and seemed to be frozen where shakily stood, unable to retreat or attack.

It was disconcerting for Onoki to say the least, he knew Roshi's strength and power. To see him like this...

"Who are you?" Demanded Onoki of Both Scales as he surged his chakra to the surface, making him look as if he were glowing as he glared up at the slowly forming head high above.

**_"Oh?"_** The incomplete head of the being, for Onoki knew for certain that this was no creation of an illusion or ninjutsu, said, turning it's black pits for eyes towards him, giving the impression of absent curiosity, **_"Are you speaking to me, Ryotenbin no Onoki?"_** The voice asked, almost mockingly.

"I do," growled the Tsuchikage, veins on his mostly bald head bulging in irritation and anger at the disrespect that he was being shown.

**_"That is good,"_** the being chuffed, a small harsh laugh coming from it's still forming throat, a sound that increased Onoki's own unease. It was not the sound a human could make. **_"For I wish to speak with you."_**

"And who are you to enter uninvited and interrupt an important meeting?" Queried the old man, his eyes narrowed up at the face that was forming, taking not of the dust belonging to the body slowly becoming lighter in colour, white in fact, as it also seemed to turn into the folds of a loose robe of an indeterminate material. He noticed the relaxed posture of the brat he had been interviewing and recalled that he had greeted this entity. "And what do you have to do with the brat?"

Cold chuckles echoed around the chamber again, chilling the majority of those who heard it, even as the being stared down at the Tsuchikage, burning red eyes gleaming with a hungry mirth.

**_"Quite the brave one, aren't you? Talking to me like that, thinking that you can fight me. That you can win."_** The figure seemed to muse, lifting a dark and dusty hand to a still dusty chin. Those crimson orbs then became brighter and sharper and harder, rubies of blood instead of hungry flames, "**_But then, you don't know who I am, do you?"_** The chuckle returned, more eerie and terrifying than before, even as those orbs shifted to the Kage's right, "**_But that pet ape of yours most certainly does."_**

That made Onoki frown. While not the best kept secret, it was still village only knowledge about a jinchuuriki's identity. The fact that this being had addressed Roshi so...

"**_Still,"_** the form mused, dark purple hand stroking the dark chin beneath a newly formed mouth that clenched a large tanto between it's teeth, the soft click of prayer beads on the being's wrist clearly heard with each and every stroke. **_"It couldn't hurt to introduce myself."_** That grating chuckle was heard again, scraping at the ears like two swords grinding against each other in combat. A hellish and bloodcurdling sound.

The being raised back it's dark hands above it's now complete head, above it's shaggy bone white hair and the two large horns that jutted out of it's skull.

**_"I am the Ferrier of Souls,"_** the being intoned, "**_the Reaper, the Chooser of the Slain,"_** as the being spoke, the air grew ever heavier, a sense of dread filling it, weighing them all down, as is the world was too heavy for them to linger on, crushing them beneath it's terrible weight, making their very souls cry out in agony.

**_"I am the Lord of Death, The SHINIGAMI!"_** The last word was roared as the being's presence suddenly exploded into the senses, driving them all to their knees. Their bodies felt sickly and weak, as is the very life and strength was drained from by merely being in the entity's presence.

On his knees, Onoki couldn't help but feel a sliver of fear as he gazed up at the creature, the _God, _that he could now identify. This was a being beyond mortal ken, beyond the province of man. It was something had been around since before the First Day and would continue to exist after the spark of the last living being was extinguished.

One could not hope to fight the force known as Death.

The presence then began to fade as abruptly as it appeared, returning to it's normal chilling levels, allowing them all to shakily attempt to stand before the being, looking simultaneously awed and terrified.

"Was all that really necessary, Boss?" The form of a reposed Kenkotsu asked dryly, an eyebrow raised in question, making the Shinobi of Iwa gape at the youth's audacity to address the form of the Ultimate End in such a casual way.

The Shinigami just rattled out a ghastly chuckle through the tanto in it's mouth.

* * *

Kurotsuchi stared at the vast figure of the God of Death, fighting her reflexes to either fight or flee in the face of what could be considered the ultimate predator, from where she stood (read: leaned heavily) against the wall once more. Akatsuchi not doing much better.

It had taken all of her comrades time to recompose themselves after being faced with the Death God's appearance. Her grandfather was now standing in the middle of the room, directly facing the also standing form of Kenkotsu. But now the discussions were going much more smoothly.

In the face of a deity appearing in the chambers, backing up the words of the hyena summoner, they all couldn't help but accept the young man's word about the existence of demons.

In particular, the one that she had evidently been captured by had peaked her interest.

"The one that grabbed you and was causing havoc in your village before that was known as a _vampire_," the one eyed man said, slowly enunciating the strange word, "such a creature is 'born' by another vampire giving their blood to a dying person that they have, in turn, drained of their blood. A day later and the corpse has become a host to a demon which lives out it's life in that form."

"How common are these creatures?" Onoki asked with a frown. "And what are their abilities? Their strengths? Their weaknesses?"

"For demons in general?" Asked Kenkotsu, "they _were _almost unheard of...until about a year ago. Now they are starting to be seen more often, even if others don't know what they are seeing. Demon attacks are also appearing more and more frequently. There is strong indication that their population will keep rising for a while yet. Their strengths?" Kenkotsu looked upward for a moment in thought, "Hard to say. Generally, they would be considered more physically powerful than a human, in just about all senses of the word. However, this doesn't take into account shinobi or other chakra users. When they were around last, chakra wasn't being used in such a manner, or even used at all. Some them also have a few esoteric tricks. Natural invisibility. Hypnosis. Cryokinesis. Regeneration to the point of healing from decapitation. It really depends on the species of demon and, sometimes, on the individual. Weaknesses are also often species specific. Some hate gold or silver. Some can't handle fire. Others are immune to anything except a certain item or material." He narrowed his eye slightly, "however, for a broad spectrum, blessed silver or holy silver seems to work to a degree against a great deal of them."

Kurotsuchi shivered. It sounded like an absolute nightmare to fight one of these beings. She could imagine facing a demon that was wholely immune to anything but a blade of gold, something that she was sure that no one habitually carried. It would be a slaughter. Jutsu and kunai generally worked on another shinobi, they are just human after all. A Kage could fall to simple kunai as well as any civilian child if used in the right hands, at the right time.

To face something that wouldn't fall to either and was possibly stronger than them would be a nightmare come true.

Facing demons looked like it seemed to be a whole different ball game.

Kurotsuchi knew that she would looking into getting a silver dagger, and getting it blessed by a real monk, no matter the cost to her, as soon as possible. It was better to be safe than to be dead.

"And of these _vampires?"_ Her grandfather questioned.

The young man frowned heavily. "I told you how they were born, a process they call Turning, and that they feed on human blood. They are the most common of demons to exist and, by consequence, considered the weakest individually. There strengths? In a civilian, a four fold increase in strength upon there 'birth'. Increased senses, like a dog. Night vision that is unaffected by light sources. There strength increases with age, and they can live on indefinitely. Past a century in age, and it is doubtful an ignorant civilian would be even be able to struggle against them for a moment." He frowned as he paused there, "Their most dangerous trait, in my opinion however, is that they retain the memories of the body they possess. What the host once knew, it knows. It allows them to blend in with human society, to become wolves amongst the sheep."

All the Iwa shinobi stiffened. _That _was a very large concern. For an enemy to be able to seemlessly become another person, a trusted one, and infiltrate a village was something a shinobi dreaded happening to them. A lot of damage could be done by such tactics.

Kurotsuchi however, as much as she shivered in slight fear, picked up on something that Kenkotsu had mentioned and couldn't help but voice it.

"You said a 'civilian'." She stated, "what would happen if a shinobi, or other chakra user were Turned?"

Kenkotsu sighed heavily, scrubbing his hair roughly for a moment. "You experienced the results yourself," he said quietly, "Chakra seems to be the wild card in the Turning process. It allows the Turned being to become much much stronger than they should be, more powerful demons are also invited into the host body. Demons that have some form of capability with their own form of magic focused around blood and sacrifice. It also gives them a very powerful resistance to the sun, allowing them to walk around in the day time rather than be forced to stalk the night or forage in the dark." He shuddered slightly, "You experienced how powerful a mere Genin could be when Turned. Imagine how powerful a Chuunin, Jounin or, as a worst case scenario, a _Kage_ could become if Turned?"

Kurotsuchi flinched violently at the grim picture that he painted. Almost an entire village had found themselves helpless against a single vampire created from a weak Genin, a Jounin one might just tear the village open like an egg. She didn't even want to think about what a Turned Kage could possibly achieve.

For the supposed 'weakest' of demons, this was rather horrifying and, for a shinobi, far more insidious. Shinobi were meant to strike with stealth, from behind, the dagger in the dark, rather than be the powerhouses on the battlefield that samurai were reputed to be. These vampires sounded like they fit the bill rather well.

"What about weaknesses?" Said a pale Tsuchikage. It looked like even her grandfather was shaken at the prospect and was immediately putting together a workable plan to prevent such s thing from happening.

"Sunlight," her saviour counted off, "Fire. Holy objects. Decapitation. Wood, bone or other previously living material penetrating the heart. They lack a reflection and they cannot enter a dwelling or a home uninvited."

"And you hunt these beings on a regular basis?" questioned her godfather, who's pale face was now a bit more recovered from the initial sight of the Shinigami, who was, incidentally, looking over the proceedings impassively. "Alone? Without support?" The red head sounded mildly horrified.

"I haven't really stopped since I began a little over a year back," Kenkotsu said with a shrug, "and I don't it alone," he thumbed over to the quiet form of his summon, "I have Tobikotsu and the rest of the Tribe to help me out on some of the more difficult cases I find."

"**And find them you do,**" the hyena said dryly, his glowing eyes exasperated, "**sometimes I think that the agreement the Tribe formed with Lord Shinigami isn't worth having you for a summoner. Do you happen to remember the, supposedly, small case of mukade in Swamp Country? A small case that involved a full day running for our lives and the destruction of a quarter of a town? And that was one of the easier ones!"**

"Blame him!" Kenkotsu shot back, pointing accusedly at the chuckling Shinigami, "He's the one who set me, his little Hunter, on the trail of the damned thing!"

"**_I thought it was fun," _**the Shinigami said amusedly.

"My pardon, Lord Shinigami," The Tsuchikage interrupted, his voice respectful but still halting the argument that Kurotsuchi could see developing, "but I must ask, is this young man the only one who knows how to deal with such...threats as these?"

The Shinigami's eyes abruptly pierced her grandfather with a look, the semi-cruel amusement that lingered in them vanishing as the deity became very serious.

"**_Yes,"_** the deity said flatly and with finality, "**_no other on this world knows the lore of these chaotic beings that even now threaten the stability of this world. My world. It was because of that, and a few more reasons, that I chose Alexander Harris as my Hunter and bargained with him for the gifts he has now. No others were suitable or acceptable to me."_**

Onoki frowned up at the divine entity of Death, "Surely that is too much to ask of one person? He is only one man, and mortal. Sooner or later, he will fall."

"Nothing new to me," Kenkotsu shrugged, "I knew the hand I was dealt from the first draw. And I honestly don't mind."

Kurotsuchi couldn't help but frown at such fatalism. When she became a shinobi she accepted the possibility of death on the battlefield. A shinobi's life was often a short and violent one.

But such acceptance of their own mortality...

"**_Indeed he will,"_** agreed the god, with a nod of his horned head, **_"But he will also take a great many of the foul beasts with him before he shuffles from the mortal coil."_**

"But will he take enough?" Countered the Tsuchikage as he looked fearlessly up at the Shinigami, "Your Hunter said it himself. These attacks are becoming more frequent. Do you think that your Hunter can be at every attack? That they will stop if he expires? Or will they continue to increase? To become more frequent? Even when the only source of knowledge of how to defend from these nightmarish creatures has since passed on?"

The Shinigami looked down at the Tsuchikage before suddenly beginning to shrink, a pillar of swirling around the deity before it seemed to collapse in on it's self, leaving a much smaller version of the Shingami, slightly taller than a normal human, who then floated off of the desk and came to rest on the floor with the familiar clocking sound of wooden geta on stone, no doubt hidden under those voluminous white robes.

**_"And what, exactly, Sandaime Tsuchikage Ryotenbin no Onoki," _**the deity intoned, those crimson eyes intent on the person he had just named, **_"would you suggest I do instead?"_**

Her grandfather fearlessly met the eyes of the being who may one day have his soul.

* * *

_A Week Later_

"**Are absolutely sure about this?**" Tobikotsu, his brother in arms, spoke quietly into the ear of the man once known as Alexander Lavelle Harris, as they both watched from a ways outside the vast gates of Iwagakure as a young lady with pink eyes gently hugged a bandage wrapped woman in a wheel chair, who's features were very much similar to the girl's own, before she turned and fiercely hugged a mammoth sized man, easily seven foot tall, around his waist even as the man ruffled the girl's hair, worry and pride in his dark eyes, as they stood underneath the early dawn sun.

"You have to admit Short-Round had a pretty good point," Xander said, at his four legged companion, "besides, I wouldn't a little more human company."

The summon snorted, "**Try not to let your smaller head do the thinking."**

Xander frowned at the now snickering critter and was about to retort when he felt a decent sized chakra signature appear behind him, feeling like earth and stone. And one he had gotten acquainted with over the last few days.

"Sure you shouldn't be over with the rest of your family?" Xander spoke calmly, glancing behind him to see an identical form of the person Kurotsuchi was still hugging.

"I am," the man said bluntly, "I'm just a clone passing on a message."

"By all means, be my guest," Xander smirked to the clone.

The clone sighed slightly, "I know it's asking a lot, especially considering what your doing, but..."

"No need," Xander said softly, his eye smiling in comfort, "I know what your going to say. I promise that she will be fine and I will protect her as if she were one of my own. You have my word."

The man, Kitsuchi, looked surprised before his round face smiled and he chuckled lightly. "Good to know." He smiled, then his face became a little darker, and Xander suddenly felt his brain raise the alarm, "but there is one more thing..."

Xander suddenly felt like a mouse before the hawk as the man leaned in and whispered darkly in his ear.

"If you ever try to touch my beautiful little girl, then you will quickly find what it feels like for your balls to be between a rock and a hard place. And then I will _squeeze."_ The last word was said in a venomous hiss that left no doubt to man's intentions. "Understood?"

"Crystal," Xander gulped heavily. Damn it! Why did he have to run into over protective father's every time he turned around! Especially when there was no desire for him to put the moves their daughters in the first place!

"Good man," the man's clone said brightly before simply crumbling away where it stood.

Xander just stared at the crumbled pile and shivered. That was one man he had no desire to piss off. Especially considering that said man also had a father who was equally protective of the same girl and was able to mimic fucking nuclear explosions!

He had no desire to know what it felt like to be at Ground Zero in Hiroshima.

Tobikotsu whistled from where he stood. "**He could give Mother a run for her money.**" He commented.

"I know," Xander groaned, "and that is what scares me the most."

The slap of sandals on stone reached his ear and his lone eye glanced over to see the form of Kurotsuchi walking up to him and his hyena companion/partner. Behind her, he could see the forms of several people waving goodbye, faint cheers carried on the wind.

"Ready to go, my Padawan?" He grinned at the girl, possibly showing more teeth than one normally would have. Something he blamed on carousing and living with just the Tribe for quite a while now.

"I believe I am," she responded, hefting the slightly heavier than normal mission pack that she had on her back.

"Did you remember to stash your headband?" He enquired, "we will likely be going to places that will not look the most kindly on official Iwa shinobi roaming around in said territory."

Those pink eyes just looked at him as if he were an idiot of the highest order. Huh. Deja vu. Cordelia used to give the same looks when he was high school. So did Willow come to think of it. And Buffy. And Giles. Jesse, when he still alive.

Okay, so pretty much everyone had looked at him like that at least once. The moments were few and far between after the rather memorable Halloween though.

"Alright, stupid question," he had his hands out in a placating manner. "Let's just go, alright? I want to make it the border by tomorrow evening."

Tobikotsu laughed, high and wild, as he sprinted forward at a fast pace, living up to his name.

"**Catch me if you can~?" **The summoned creature sang back to them as he ran.

"Child," Xander groaned in complaint before running after his erstwhile comrade.

"Boys," Kurotsuchi groaned in mild disgust as she too began to run, easily catching up the form of the one she knew as Kenkotsu with a little chakra boost.

* * *

_'And so it was that the first step on an amazing journey was made. A journey that would leave a legacy, a mark, on the world. Paving the way for those who would come after them._

_Thus were the beginnings of the Hunters.'_

History of the Hunters: Book 1: Origins

* * *

Well folks, how did you like that chapter? I busted my ass to get it out in time for Christmas. I hope you like the present.

Pretty heavy on the information drops I know, and there were a few blank spots that I deliberately didn't fill in. They will be answered in another chapter. I promise that the next chapter will have a decent fight scene in it.

Glossary

_Mukade - Centipede. Can also be a giant demon in Japan._

_Tobikotsu - Flying Skill/Bone. Name of a Hyena summon._

_Kenkotsu - Blade/Fist Skill/Bone. Xander's chosen name to go by._

_Doton: Vajra no Jutsu - Earth Release: Diamond Technique. A technique that focuses earth chakra into the epidermis, making it stronger and more durable and increasing one's strength in the limb. Named after the Hindu Deity Indra's infamous weapon._

As always, please leave a review and Happy Holidays,

Kujikiri21


	3. Chapter 3

The Death God's Hunter

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, Angel or Naruto

**Chapter 3**

The beast rushed through the dark forest beneath what silvery light of the moon managed to penetrate the thick net of leaves and branches that enclosed the area, its mouth panting and drool dripping from its jaws as it ran.

The creature's blood ran hot this night, for it had detected the sweet scent of wounded prey as it set foot upon its mountain home, making the creature swiftly waken from its slumber, it's hollow and empty belly growling like it was a beast itself in hunger.

When it had first formed upon its mountain, several moon cycles ago, it had glutted itself and assuaged its hunger upon a den of two-legs, its favoured prey, that had been upon its mountain. The blood had run red and the screams of its prey as they felt its jaws lock around their limbs had only added the sweet scent scent of fear to its meal.

By the dawn of the next day, there were no more two-legs within its demesne, either having escaped its hungry maw by fleeing from its mountain (Of which there were few. It was swift enough to eat its prey and be chasing another to date its desire mere moments later.) or ended up in its belly, feeding its hunger and giving it strength before it descended into slumber again, awaiting other unwitting prey to enter its claimed territory.

Such was its life. Hunt, Devour and Rest and then Hunt again.

And it gloried, nigh _revelled,_ in it.

_Chi! Chi! Chi!_

Its canine-like ears pricked up as it ran through the forest of its mountain, following the scent of fresh spilled blood. It knew those sounds. The calls of its servants, telling it that its prey was near.

It swerved through the forest, dodging tree trunks and leaping over said trees fallen brethren with all the grace of a hunter as it iterated itself towards that cries of its winged servants. Weak though they may be, its winged servants were many in number and served a useful function in its hunt for quarry and prey. At least useful enough to let them live within its territory.

The cries became louder as it ran, the trees of the forest thinning slightly, allowing its sharp eyes to see further through the tangled wall of wood and vine. Its maw twisted into a wicked wolffish grin at what it saw.

Ahead of it was a small clearing next with a very small but deep lake, more akin to a pond in size, that was fed by a small stream. The clearing was popular place for the creatures of the earth, mundane and bland beasts that it never desired to hunt, to quietly drink their fill before moving on along their way, following the winding path out of it through tree and bush. Predator and prey often drank side by side in this idyllic little slice of the world, their roles suspended until they had left the confines of the peaceful clearing.

It was far peaceful now though.

It slowed its rush, approaching cautiously, golden-red eyes filled with hunger and predatory intent and stayed hidden within the trees to observe the current situation.

Its winged servants, like a massive cloud, whirled around a single male two-leg, creating a cacophony that it had learned to ignore over time and through exposure to the disorienting cries. His servants harried and encircled and whirled around the two-leg, keeping him in one spot as he futilely tried to bat or swat away the black feathered beings that served it with his pale paws.

He wouldn't be going anywhere soon, of that it was sure. Especially with the wounded arm that hung limply from his shoulders, making his defence against the flock of black all that more difficult.

Its eyes narrowed and scanned around the clearing, even as it took subtle deep breaths through its nose, searching for any sign that this could be a trap. It would not be the first time, or even the second or the third, that it had found likely prey only for the 'wounded' prey to suddenly fight as viciously and as hard as one of its own kind, using claws of cold earth or somehow calling forth Fire and Flame in conjunction with members of their own pack that suddenly appeared next to it.

It had felt the bite of those claws and the heat of the Flame. Despite the fact that it knew that those things could not kill it, it didn't stop itself from feeling a bit of pain (at least from those cold claws the two-legs were fond of using.).

The pain had awakened its ire, which was then turned on the annoying prey that had dared to try and deceive it. The foolish prey had then increased its strength upon being devoured.

Despite being ultimately futile, these incidents had made it cautious, wary, of the two-legs it devoured. Especially of those who brought forth Flame and Fire, who smelt of power that was not familiar to it. Prey such as they were cunning, hiding their claws until the last moment.

As such, it had learned to be just as cunning.

Familiar scents entered its nose as it breathed and sought out the truth of the world. Water, grass and trees were ignored, these scents were everywhere and need not be heeded. It needed to seek out the unfamiliar and the strange and out of place, the scents of something that it could already see.

The scent of blood was there, the sweet tang of the life giving liquid making its mouth water and absently lick its chops. It was definitely the blood of a two-leg, that was unmistakable, and the scent was heavy enough to be equated with the amount that its sharp eyes could see staining the ground and the male two-leg's odd fur. It seemed that this unfortunate two-leg truly was wounded.

But was he alone?

It raised its nose higher and took a deeper whiff.

Underneath the heavy blood scent, it found the personal scent of the male two-leg. And it was one that had it confused.

Of Beast and Earth and Bone did this two-leg smell of, something that it had not encountered before. The closest would have been when it had encountered an odd cunning two-leg with a beast-pet. They had fought it together, working like pack mates. It had been an interesting clash between them, it had been wounded several times in the battle but it's power had swiftly healed said wounds, but they had still fallen before its unquestioned might.

The scent of the two-leg wasn't the same, but it _was_ similar. But that was not all. There was another scent that lingered around the two-leg, covering it like an invisible shroud.

It had never encountered the likes of it before, nor did it have anything that it could compare the scent with. But, whatever the scent was, it was strong, an indication of this floundering two-leg's own power.

And, strangely, filled it with a feeling of dread, as if some part of it instinctively knew that this strange power was a danger in and of itself.

Its hackles raised and ears pinned back, its large paws moving it carefully away from the clearing of screeching and coarse yells as the two-legs and its winged servitors fought each other. Suddenly, it knew that, even if its senses said otherwise, that it was in terrible danger. No longer was it the Hunter.

It was the Hunted.

"_**Going somewhere, Pup?**_" A voice suddenly whispered in its ear, growling and feral, making it spin around in shock and surprise and a small dash of fear, its body lowering itself to launch itself into either an attack or an attempt to flee. Where had the voice's owner come from? How had it not noticed something creeping up on it?

Its unnatural and feral golden-red eyes met spectrally glowing green ones.

The fight between the two of them that met eyes began immediately.

* * *

Xander smiled grimly as he heard the snarls and howls from the brush around the clearing even through the midst of the screeching and other high-pitched noises that the quarrel of blood thirsty black sparrow-like bird demons were making. It looked like the trap that the three of them had come up with had paid off.

They had been able to draw out the big boss, that Tobi was now dancing with, now it was time to end the farce of him playing bait.

The hand of his uninjured arm twisted into a seal as he moulded his chakra into one of his favoured jutsus.

The bird demons never knew what hit them as their prey, that had previously only been barely fending them off with a single arm, was suddenly moving fast and had a glowing weapons in his hand.

The weapon was a silver blur as it cut down flying fiends by the droves, cutting through them like they were made of air and cloud and little else. A third of the group was lost by the time the collective had time to register the sudden change. A half of the total quarrel had disappeared by the time they all reacted to this sudden threat. The remainder managed to flee before they could feel the glowing bite of the sudden predator's weapon, abandoning the master they had followed in order to ensure their own survival.

Xander didn't bother to look or chase after them, they were small fry and barely worth the effort to fight. Demons those birds might be, but they were almost harmless alone and only really a threat when in large groups and lead by another demon, otherwise they were just very small vultures, picking at the leavings of others.

The true threat on this mountain was the demon that Tobikotsu had just managed to throw into the clearing.

The creature landed heavily on its back but was quick to roll back to its four paws, growling and glaring as it stood there, its hackles raised in an attempt to make itself larger or more intimidating.

Not that it needed to if it encountered someone with little experience in the supernatural.

Peripherally, it looked like an immense black furred dog, or maybe a wolf, easily six feet at the shoulder, with a body that seemed both muscular and strangely emaciated at the same time, and thus dwarfing any normal specimen of the canine family. But that similarity to the family that contained man's best friend was only skin deep.

Those golden-red eyes, unnatural, feral and eerie, were a clear indication that this was no normal hound. The scent of blood and death emanated from the creature like smoke from a fire and the aura of hunger and malice that cloaked it was known to terrify people to the point of madness, shattering their wills and spirits and thus making them easy prey for this monster.

Legends called it an 'okuri-inu' or 'sending off dog'. Other names for it included 'ookami' and 'Yama-inu', wolf or mountain-dog respectively. Legends about them were complex, by turns both malicious and benevolent.

The demonic hound viciously snarled at him as he slowly approached it, his weapon, a Western longsword that he had yet to see the equivalent to in the Elemental Nations, held forward. Bright embers and flickers of fire appeared in the demon's abyss black fur and the air became slightly warmer as both man and demon faced off. He kept his own face blank and serious and his body language closed, not letting the demon have a chance to possibly read what his intent was as he moved slowly closer, to bring himself within striking range. The snarls and growls grew fiercer and louder and more vicious with every step he took.

This one was definitely malevolent, just like the rest of the monster's species, whatever else that the old legends, distorted and twisted, may claim.

The dark hound finally seemed to have enough of his advancing and snarled, deep and low, before leaping toward him with a speed that completely belied its size, a black and sparking streak beneath the moonlight, covering the distance of ten feet between them in a flash.

Without hesitation, he sidestepped the attack, the hound's massive form passing him by in mid-air, and struck out with his glowing silver sword, carving a long and deep cut along the demon's flank. The creature's vicious snarls became a yelp of pain even as it landed semi-lightly and spun on its haunches to face him again, its back to the deep waterhole behind it and slightly favouring a rear leg.

Xander smirked briefly at the line of glowing liquid that seeped from the deep cut he had given it, even as it seemed to slowly close itself before his single eye. He had seen faster and more dangerous charges from other monster of the night, back in Sunnydale and Africa as well as within the Elemental Nations. His skills and experiences made it child's play to wound the beast.

He had faced worse than this rabid dog.

The feral hound snarled at him again, obviously angered and possibly scared that it had been wounded by him. The hackles of the damned creature raised higher, bristling and spiking, and embers seemed to leap from its fur.

Xander narrowed his eye and set himself as he felt the air temperature rise dramatically, the cool night air chased away by a hot dry wind. One that seemed to originate from the now almost sparking massive hound.

'Just a little more,' he thought, as he carefully watched the thunderously growling demonic hound.

The sparks and embers now came from the creature's fur like a fiery waterfall, the growling growing louder and louder until, with a flash, the hound let out an air-shaking howl of malicious and hatred before its black furred body went from touched with embers to erupting into crimson flames.

"Bingo," he whispered, even as the burning hound threw itself at him with a roar that was both that on an angered beast and of hungry flames. "Time for Phase Two."

* * *

It threw itself towards its hated adversary, rage clouding its mind and hatred filling its blackened heart. Tongues of its power lashed out like tree vines towards the one-eyed two-leg that had managed to wound it with that light-claw.

The pain from that claw had been agonising, if brief. Never before had it felt such pain and agony from a simple blow, or even at all.

This two-leg was Dangerous. A Predator. A Predator that Hunted its kind.

If it could have, it would have run from this Hunter, but the Other, that smelt of Beast and Soul, that had thrown it into this very clearing, was still lurking amidst the trees that surrounded grassy clearing, hemming it in and preventing it from fleeing.

Without the option of Flight, fighting was the only option that it had, even if the odds were against it from the very start.

Its paws practically smashed into the ground below, its own power, fiery and violent, charring the surface with every step it made, burning the fact that existed into the very bones of the earth below, as it propelled itself toward its hated enemy.

The enemy dodged the lashings of its fiery power, avoiding their grasp as much as the two-leg could, weaving through them with a flex of his body and methodical steps.

He did not, however, dodge it when it got within biting range.

It went low, flaring its power as it did so, making it surge outward like a wall, a fiery barrier that existed to devour all within its path. It wanted the dangerous two-leg to be off balance, preoccupied with worrying about the effects that its aura may have on the two-leg predator.

Thus allowing it to tear into the backs of the two-leg's legs using instinctive tactics that were burned into its primal mind from the very beginning.

The first part of its primal strategy, born of instinct and past experience rather than true premeditated planning, succeeded for the most part. Its scorching aura driving back the dangerous two-leg with a short guttural growl as he hopped back in surprise and shock, the glowing claw that had been used to wound it held in front of the one-eyed two-leg as a small barrier between the dangerous hunter and the aura of flame and hunger, leaving the hunter open.

It lunged for the hunter's leg, vicious jaws open wide and gleaming fangs ready to rip and tear the flesh.

The hunter, however, was more aware of himself and his surroundings than it had expected.

The hunter, dangerous and deadly, moved like lightning, removing his leg from its path. Gnashing jaws clicked closed on empty air instead of on warm flesh.

There was a sudden flash, a fast moving glint, of light in the corner of its eye that it only just managed to catch sight of before another blast of pain and agony rocked its body and sent it tumbling backward with a howl of enraged anguish towards the small waterhole, its fiery paws touching the shallows of the water, making it become clouds of steam upon contact, as half of its keen sight abruptly went dark.

It had been robbed of its sight!

It snarled heavily at the calmly standing hunter upon the shore and went to leap back into fray...

It then heard a barked vocalisation from the hunter's throat, a command and a signal.

It had only a brief time for its primal mind to understand the implications before it felt something, cold and clammy and wet, grab it by its back legs and pull it further into the waterhole, dragging it towards the dark depths, leaving a trail of steam and mist in its wake.

It howled in rage and fear, flaring its aura and might to try and burn away the cold that was even now seeping into its very being, dowsing the fires of hunger and rage and power that dwelled within its charred and blackened heart, seeking to extinguish its very existence in a permanent way.

* * *

Xander smiled grimly as he watched the demonic beast that had haunted this mountain for several months, and was responsible for the depopulation and utter massacre of more than one village that had been situated upon the mountain before it had come into existence, was dragged toward the dark depths of the waterhole, roaring wildly and struggling mightily in the watery shackles that enclosed its hind limbs and were attached to aquatic chains that were controlled and held by his partner/companion/apprentice and friend beneath the surface.

This particular type of demon was a creature of earth and fire, having the shape and strength of a beast of the earth and the endless hunger and rage of the unceasing flame, a twisted avatar of nature's savagery. It made fighting them difficult, at least for the unpracticed and ignorant, due to the fact that, as long as a piece of them rested upon the earth within their claimed domain (which was generally a mountain and the reason that they were called 'mountain dogs' in the first place.) they would, with time, completely regenerate.

There only two ways that he knew that could kill them permanently.

One was to kill it, a difficult prospect due to its healing, strength, speed and other advantages, either outside of its domain, which was nigh impossible due to it almost never leaving said domain willingly, or inside of its domain and make sure that no piece of it was left behind, which was once more a difficult prospect due to the fact that these beasts 'self-destruct' as it were, their body exploding and pieces scattering across the land, upon the killing blow being struck.

The second way, and arguably easier, was to drown it.

Its fires would be doused by the cold waters and, just as rivers can change the landscape with time, its earthen qualities are also eroded away by water.

The raging beast's flames were weakening, no longer great gouts and billows, as it was dragged further back, almost to the point where Xander knew that shallows ended and a plunge into the surprisingly deep abyss began. It was almost over for this beast.

Luckily for Xander and his companions, this wee beastie had made its home on a mountain where there was a deep enough lake, albeit a small one, for them to use to their advantage rather than tediously hunt for every bit of flesh and stone that the creature would explode into if they had done it the other way. After that, all it had taken was a little 'fishing trip' on the mountain, where Xander played the bleeding bait and Tobikotsu had ensured that their 'fish' wasn't going to make a break for it while Xander's newest companion did the heavy lifting (due to being the only one amongst them with a water affinity.) from her hidden position within the depths of the waterhole, undetectable to just about anything.

Xander's smile became a grin as, with a last howl and blast of flame, the demon was finally dragged completely beneath the waters, vanishing from his sight even as the waters churned and frothed and steamed, showing that the demon had not completely given up the fight for its life despite the great disadvantage that it currently against its newest foe beneath the water of the pond.

Xander wasn't worried. He knew that the younger girl was more than strong and skilled enough to ensure the destruction of the beast and come out of the battle relatively unscathed.

This whimpering hound was far from the most dangerous of beasts that either of them had faced in this turbulent world.

He turned his head away from the water as he felt a familiar and welcome presence approach him from his unblinded side.

"How long do you think it will take her to finish it?" He asked his Tribe Brother, the bipedal hyena summon moving smoothly across the torn earth and burnt grass that had previously been a battlefield between man and demon.

Tobikotsu chuckled as he came to stand beside the one-eyed warrior that was Xander Harris, his voice slightly higher pitched than a regular human would sound like if they were doing the same action, and idly leaning against his precious war spear as his glowing eyes looked at the churning and bubbling surface of the waterhole.

"_**I doubt it will be long.**_" the summon smirked, his inhuman face giving the expression a slightly diabolic cast, "_**She was better than the average kunoichi even **__**before**__** she joined up with the pair of us. With your tutelage in regards to fighting these demons, parts of your odd and unique forms of bukijutsu in particular, she has only gone from strength to strength.**_" The summon sighed, slightly mournful, "_**Mother is still having a fit at the Tribe losing such a potentially great summoner to the Pride due to the Pact."**_

Xander winced slightly at the last comment. The relationship between the Tribe and the Pride had always been rather hostile, having bloodshed in various degree between them in every successive generation from the very inception of the two Summoning Clans. This particular generation had been one of the more bloody ones, verging on an all out war between the two Clans in the Summon's Realm. Fortunately, the prospective war had been brought to an abrupt halt through the oddest of circumstances.

Even the more massive members of both Clans weren't willing to keep fighting when the Shinigami himself came down from his divine realm and said "**HALT!"**

They had better survival instincts than that.

While the war between the two Clans had been halted by the Lord of Death, there was still a fair degree of hostility between the two, particularly between the two bosses. With all out fighting between the two being quelled and expressly forbidden, by the order of the Shinigami, it meant that other avenues for 'getting back' at one another had to be explored.

This lead to the two Clans competing against one another, each boss trying to one up the other, in various forms.

The Pride's boss practically gloating to Tobikotsu's Mother about having the Iwa Kunoichi, that she had had her eye on but had yet to make any overtures towards, signing the Pride's contract rather than the Tribe's was but one item in an endless list of proverbial blows exchanged between them. And the most recent.

Xander drew away from his musing as he noticed that the small, but deep, waterhole had stopped churning and bubbling, now only slightly steaming like a warm bath. It made him quirk a smile. The fight below in the depths of the water had clearly ended.

His smile grew a little wider as the surface of the water became disturbed a few moments later, the aquatic liquid near the centre seeming to bulge upwards, as if pushed up from below. The bulge then moved towards the shore of the waterhole, a shifting shadow beneath it.

When the watery anomaly reached the shallows that the demonic canine had been pulled from and into the deep, the shadow below shifted violently and exploded out through the bulge of water, scattering water everywhere, revealing the familiar, if dripping wet, form of a certain Iwa Kunoichi.

"What took you so long?" Asked Xander as the younger teen slogged the shallow water, looking a little tired from the ordeal she had been through but her eyes, an odd pink that had surprised him when he had first seen it before he had shrugged it off (The sheer variety of colourations and styles in the hair and eyes of the occupants of this world, all natural mind you, never failed to take him aback for a moment. It made even the most outrageous of rock stars back in his birth world look positively mundane and bland in comparison.), were still bright and alert, her body obviously still pumping with adrenaline from her battle.

Those pink eyes briefly glared at him even as their owner removed an aquatic rebreather from her mouth and, simultaneously, stashed the large silver knife, a gift from Xander very early on in their travels, that she had slain the demonic hound with horizontally in the small of her back.

"Forgive me if underwater combat is not my specialty," she growled, almost cutely in Xander's opinion (which he would be keeping to himself.), as she finally stepped foot on dry ground for the first time in the last two hours, looking like a drowned rat. "I didn't exactly see you lining up to do it."

Xander just chuckled as she groused and complained. She sounded like more than a few Slayers he had trained back in Africa, once he had managed to make a base for himself in that eternally shifting and hostile continent. Fortunately, he knew how to deal with an irate Slayer and teenage girls.

"You can complain all you want on the way back to camp," Xander said with a slight smile as he turned and walked away, not giving the waterhole another glance, his other senses told him more than his sight about the final fate of their quarry, "I don't know about you, but I've got some left over roast deer from the night before and a large mug of hot chocolate with my name on it when we get there."

The sound of rapid squishing footsteps following him made him smirk. Warrior or not, Slayer or Shinobi, in this world or the last, it seemed that chocolate held universal power over the fairer gender.

* * *

Kurotsuchi hummed in delight as she sipped on her own mug of delicious hot chocolate as she huddled next the fire in drier clothes and a warm blanket draped over her form while Tobikotsu, in his quadruped form, lay lazily next to the same fire and Xander calmly scribbled an entry into his journal by the light of it, idly rolling a bandaged shoulder as he did so. Neither was talking to one another but the silence was both comfortable and familiar. It was a scene that had played out many a time in the past after a Hunt.

She was in a considerably better mood than she had been when she had emerged from the small waterhole after her little bout with the oversized burning mutt. In truth, the fight, if one could call it that, had not taken that long or been that onerous. The fight, both above and below the water, had, by miracle or miracles, gone exactly according to plan.

Xander, her tutor/companion/friend, had played the role of 'bait' wonderfully and convincingly, something that she made note to playfully mock him for in the future, and both Tobikotsu and Xander had also played an excellent part in driving the demonic hound towards the trap they had made in the form of herself waiting at the bottom of the lake for the signal to attack to come.

After that, it had been but mere child's play to drag the hound down to the depths where to had been more than a little helpless to defend against her stabbing her silver weapon into the base of its neck, killing it. Honestly, the most difficult part of the whole operation had been the water jutsu that she had used. As water was neither her primary or secondary affinity, that honour belonged to earth and fire respectively, she had always had at least a small amount of trouble with them but, through hard work and experience with a small helping of time, she had managed to be able to pull off some rather powerful techniques in regards to the water element, though her jutsu said in that area were limited to a handful.

It was one of the simpler Hunts that she had ever had ever experienced, everything going right for them all (for a change) and happening like clockwork. She only wished that other Hunts were the same.

She took another sip of her mug as her thoughts wandered.

It had been just a little over a year since she had begun travelling with Xander (her long association with him allowing her to be able to say his preferred name properly with utterly mangling it.) and, in that time, she had experienced more than she ever had as ninja. The veil of what she thought was reality had been ripped away allowing her to see the truth behind the curtain.

She had seen Wonders, terrible and beautiful, that had not been seen by the eyes of man since before the time of the Sage of Six Oaths. Hidden valleys opening to allow them all entry after being hidden from the eyes of Men. Sparkling caverns lighting up, the unknown source of light making crystals and gems glitter and gleam and sparkle. A forest turned dark, full looming shadows and eerie creaking and groaning of ancient trees, as the atmosphere within it turned heavy and depressed, making her thoughts take a sharp downward turn, her hand absently fingering her weapons as the sudden desire to stab it through her thought hit her like her father's right hook in a spar. A massive swamp, once teeming with life, becoming a poisonous mire, the dark green of health replaced by the bright and unnaturally vivid green of rot while retaining its healthy form, a devilish lure for any fool who dared to set foot in its waters or touch the mesmerising foliage.

She had encountered Beasts and Beings, both those considered holy and those with far less reputable histories, spoken of around campfires and told to little children as they were tucked into their beds. The gentle Baku, that bought peace by devouring the terror and fear of those it passed, looking so odd with its mismatched body. The ghostly lights of onibi, balls of fire that could take the shape of man or beast, dancing through the night air, whirling and twisting to beat that only they heard. The vicious kappa, a small (being only four foot) aquatic demon that dripped slime as it stood on its legs, smiling a frog-like smile and showing its numerous small pointed teeth that was stained red with the blood from the dismembered human leg it had been eating.

So many sights she had seen, so many experiences she had enjoyed. It was difficult to think that all of this had only happened in a single year.

And she had loved almost every moment of it.

As a child, she had grown up under her grandfather's vast shadow (which was belied by his small physical stature) hearing endless accounts of his great deeds. Turning back entire armies of enemy shinobi, turning said armies into atoms with his Dust Release, being one of the few shinobi to be able to take to the skies without aid of a summon. Deed upon deed she had heard.

And many of the shinobi of her village looked at her and wondered.

_'Can she do the same? Can she reach those lofty heights of power?'_

The weight of expectations from the populace had been heavy, driving her to train harder and harder, to become more powerful as she struggled to master the abilities that she had. And when she had achieved something of note, mastering a particularly troublesome jutsu or reaching a new level of speed, strength or skill, she had received praise. But not in the form that she had wanted.

'_As expected of the line of Tsuchikage-Sama.' _Were the words she heard the through out her village.

That had burned her deeply.

With those words, she saw that, currently, the village saw her as only an extension of her grandfather rather than her own person. Her skill was lauded because of her bloodline, the people she was descended from, rather than because of her own harsh efforts. Efforts that had caused her to put on bed rest by the family physician more than once.

It was galling and she disliked it greatly. But there was little she could do but endure it with the best grace possible, just as a shinobi would do, and continue on with her life.

Then Xander had walked into her life, opening doors to worlds she had never dreamed of existing let alone stepping through.

Her grandfather had probably only made his bargain with the Shinigami (a feat that she was still in awe of. Standing up and staring death straight in the eye unflinchingly was something that was encouraged with Iwa shinobi, and shinobi in general, but that was meant in only the metaphorical sense, not in the sense of actually going nose to nose with Death God, himself!) because he saw a possible opportunity, a silver lining in the clouds, to expand Iwa's portfolio and was willing to milk it for all its worth.

She could see the old man quietly advertising amongst the populace about Iwa's ability to solve several more 'esoteric' problems that, according to the last message she had received from him, we're starting to pop up with more frequency. Problems that other villages were unlikely able to divine the cause of due the average shinobi mind set.

(Being able to use chakra to basically give the finger to the laws of nature generally had a way of jawing those who used it as such and making them substitute 'the supernatural' for 'a chakra user gone a bit too far'. Something that Kurotsuchi was betting would cost the other Hidden Villages a heavy bloodprice before they managed to complete the mission by pure chance.)

With that in mind, she could see him figuratively 'cornering the market', so to speak, in those circumstances.

But he would need someone with the skills to do such things first. One that would be under his command.

Xander was not an option, at least outright. The one-eyed youth had powerful connections to the leader of Iron Country, who would not stand for Onoki's, or indeed any ninja's, power plays. This effectively protected the hyena summoner from a vast array of manipulative actions from powerful individuals, ninja and not, that would have attempted to make him dance to their tune if it were not for his patron, one that had been able to topple or rival the vaunted Hanzo the Salamander of Hidden Rain and was said to be so fast as to render a shinobi unable to use ninjutsu before his sword managed to cleave their hands from their bodies.

Even her grandfather was cautious with dealing with the old samurai.

But, by virtue of virtues, her grandfather had found another way to acquire the knowledge to identify and combat the rising threats of the supernatural for his village from Xander.

Her.

He had argued with the Shinigami that, by himself, Xander was vulnerable. As the Death God had said, the youth was the only one with _true_ knowledge of how to fight the demons, monsters and youkai that were appearing within the Nations. If he was somehow killed (and that would only be a matter of time, Kurotsuchi knew. The realities of ninja world were not that much different from that of the demon world. Life expectancy was low, even during peace time, for the average shinobi. War made that drop like a stone. And Xander was always at war with the demons.) then that knowledge, and his experience, would be ultimately lost and blood would flow across the lands of the Elemental Nations until that knowledge was regained by trial and error and at the cost of thousands, tens of thousands, of human lives. Civilian, noble, samurai and shinobi.

A fall back was needed, a back up plan for **when,** not if, everything went straight to Izanami's rotting kingdom as the demonic influence of various monsters began to expand.

Halting the advance of demon was not a task for a single man alone, and for all his power and skill that was _exactly _what Xander was. He needed support. Resources. Allies.

He needed help.

And her grandfather was willing to extend that helping hand, to help keep safe his own men and women. For a price.

A contract was then written and signed and witnessed between the Death God and the Sandaime Tsuchikage. Placing her under Xander's command and tutelage, to further understand the new threat that walked the nations, hidden from the ignorant eyes of men and learn all that she could under his wing until he deemed that she had learnt enough. She was then, in turn, allowed to train others, from the forces of Iwa, in the ways that she had learned and was allowed to reveal information in regards to the types of monsters that now walked the land and the powers they had, though the Shinigami and Xander did have the right to censure her, if they deemed it necessary, in regards to such things.

In return for this valuable knowledge and experience that would be passed on to Iwa, her grandfather had agreed to always lend support, whether it be money, resources, access to low ranked safe houses and supply dumps or even information from their spy network (though that was limited to tales, rumours and reports of odd and strange occurrences. Xander had been quite happy with that little inclusion. For all that he was a fighter that many jounin would be hard pressed to challenge, let alone match, it seemed he had little real interest in being a shinobi at any point in time and, as such, didn't desire to be involved in the dirty business that surrounded the profession.), to Xander when requested, even after he had finished showing his granddaughter the ropes in the business of demon hunting, and any of his descendants in the future that also took up the role as a demon hunter.

So it had signed and so had it been sealed. A contract that even her grandfather, as opportunistic and sly as he was, would never purposefully break by action or inaction.

She had initially been a little surprised when Xander hadn't raised any objections, or even words at all, when the God and Kage had started to hash out the agreement, seeming without even considering to consult her or the older youth for their opinion on the matter. While, at the time, she had barely even knew his name, he hadn't struck her as someone who would tolerate being told what to do without even so much as a 'by your leave'. He seemed to be a casual person and had no fear of speaking his mind, even where others may not want it.

She still wasn't sure why, even now after just over a year on the road with him. He was a man with a great many secrets, some that she had learned, either by purposeful revelation or complete accident from a slip of the tongue, and many others that she had only the faintest of clues about them actually existing, let alone knowing what they were.

In either case, he had not raised any objections and had treated her as a serious student from the get go, showing her all the little tricks of the very dangerous trade that he practiced as time went by while also helping her with her other endeavours, such as growing in strength and skill as a shinobi.

And it had been glorious.

She had never felt stronger or more powerful than she did after he had started showing her how to fight the beings of nightmare and disaster that he hunted, something that was completely unlike fighting a human, or humanoid, opponent. The skills she had attained under his watchful eye, just as many _not _battle related as those that were (something that finally allowed her to be able to cook a decent breakfast without setting an entire kitchen aflame in five minutes.), were myriad and useful, allowing her to adapt to the many odd and unusual and often unique situations that arose when facing creatures of darkness. And the amount of sheer knowledge that her teacher imparted...

(He may look like he was a rough necked fighter in his later teens, but Xander had shown her that he had enough knowledge in his head to rival even the oldest and most avid of scholars and the keen mind to use it. And there was even more that he had not yet imparted to her.)

Yes, the role of demon hunter was something that she found truly satisfying. It also allowed her to step out of her grandfather's large shadow, with time, and show her village that there was more to her than just being the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage. She would the pioneer for a whole new type of shinobi, etching her name along side the other notable greats in shinobi history.

Hashirama Senju, Madara Uchiha, the Sandaime Raikage A, the Nidaime Tsuchikage Mu, Hanzo, Tsunade, Jiraiya, Orochimaru (for all his blasphemous tendencies and experiments, he was still a shinobi of great note.), the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, the Sandaime Kazekage and even her own _grandfather_. Instead walking behind them, following their footsteps in the path to power, she would instead blaze her own trail, walking _beside_ them as an equal, standing there under her own power rather than riding on the coat tails of another.

But that was far off in the future. She was but a mid-teen who still had a lot to learn. She didn't delude herself into thinking that she even had a whisper of a _prayer_ against one of those people in a fight if they were to appear before her right now. But she had time. She would grow.

And then she would take her place amongst them. This she vowed.

Her pink eyes glanced over her mug as she took another sip of the sweet liquid.

And it was all made possible because of one man.

* * *

Xander felt the eyes of his companion and student upon him as he scratched out an entry into his journal, a record of the Hunts he had been on in this world, the enemies he had faced and the powers that they wielded and the actions, both successful and not, that he had taken to ensure victory. But he didn't mind the stare, he had received similar ones long ago, back before he had arrived in this Ninja World.

It had been an interesting year for him, with the young Iwa kunoichi as a companion and an apprentice. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have another human at your back, ready to defend you just as much as you are ready to defend them. He found himself remembering the similar, if also very different, camaraderie he had had with his baby Slayers back in Africa and that had made it easier for him to show her how things were done in regards to the new part of the world that her eyes had opened up to, though he had to change the lessons just a little bit to compensate for her lack of Slayer instinct, though her own shinobi trained ones made for a more than half decent substitute.

And honestly, he found himself liking it.

At heart, he was always more of a people person, enjoying gatherings with the few friends he had even back in the 'Dale and being all alone was not something that he particularly liked, even if he saw the necessity for it at times and had grown accustomed to it (his brutal travels in Africa, a continent as wild and chaotic and dangerous and untamed as one could get in Modern Earth, had made sure of that as he dodged warlord militia in his search for the newly Awakened Potentials on the Dark Continent. And the place had been aptly named.). So to have a companion again, aside from his Tribe Brother (for all that he could speak the local human tongue, he was still a hyena and had a much different set of thoughts and priorities than humans did. Xander only connected with the Tribe as easily as he did due to, in the most basic of senses, understanding them because of his previous experience with the spirit of a Primal Hyena, one that had left its mark on his psyche and soul.) was more than welcome.

Even more so because she was a young female warrior who needed to learn how to fight and hunt demons. Something that he was familiar with, in both cases, and was more than willing to provide even without his Boss' command and negotiation on his behalf once the Oompa-Loompa that ruled Iwa had pointed out some facts of life.

Back home, many people would have been outraged that he was training such a young teen how to fight and kill and taking her on Hunts. Even the rest of the Scoobies would have been a bit leery of it. Under the auspices of the New Council of Watchers, sixteen was generally the youngest age for a new Slayer to be allowed out in the field with just her partner Watcher at her back unless there was a true emergency, like multiple Apocalypses happening at once. The New Council had a chance to do things right, instead of what was expedient, and they were determined to make it count.

But they had had a surplus of Slayers to work with, beings that were hard wired to fight demon kind, with instinctive weapon skills, unconscious understanding of demons that the Slayer spirit had encountered in other hosts and had the natural physical prowess to match them, and many trained and intelligent Watchers to back them up with their own more comprehensive knowledge of the figures that prowled the edges of the night, and thus could afford to let the youngest amongst them keep their innocence and childhood just a little longer.

He, however, did not have such a luxury.

As his divine Boss had said, he was the only one with the knowledge and the proper skills to defeat the supernatural in this world. And Onoki had been right in stating that this made him, and by extension the World, vulnerable.

So it was, without a qualm, that he had accepted the contract that been laid out.

And he hadn't regretted it.

She had already had better than decent skills in combat, thanks to her profession as a kunoichi, which had only made it easier for him to teach her, her physical prowess already equal to a Slayer and her instincts as a fighter pretty top notch. She was also very intelligent and savvy, able to take in the information he told her and be able to extrapolate on it and apply it to real life, something that more than few young and new Watchers had difficulty doing in the initial stages of their training.

He could not have asked for more from her as a reliable partner in battle. And out of it.

He was glad to able to call her friend.

Though sometimes, when he felt her eyes on him...he paused in his writings briefly before shaking his head slightly in an effort to drive the thought from his mind. He must be tired, imagining things that were just shy of impossible (He had experienced enough weirdness in his life to never count anything as impossible until proven otherwise, and even then be prepared for said 'impossible' thing to some how happen when he was in the vicinity. Such was his abysmal luck. He was convinced that he must have his own personal Murphy invisibly hovering over his shoulder, rubbing his hands and cackling with insane glee, ready and willing to make his life harder than it already was, just for fun.).

He scratched out a last line in his journal before closing it with a snap, even as he felt a wash of fatigue flow over him and his jaws opened wide in an extremely wide yawn and he stretched out his arms and shoulders, muffled cracks heard from his joints and muscles as he did so.

"Finished already?" His student enquired, her pink eyes intent on him as she sipped the last few dregs of her hot chocolate that he had provided in an unspoken apology for having her basically sit on the muddy floor of a waterhole underwater for a handful of hours.

"It was only a relatively short entry," he answered as he nearly put away his crimson covered journal in his rucksack, "and it is getting quite late. If we want to be on road and rested by dawn, it would be best to go to sleep soon."

Kurotsuchi nodded in agreement, her eyes lighting up in a sense of eagerness. Understandable, considering their next destination, barring unforeseen circumstances.

There was no place like home after all.

* * *

The village burned.

What had once been a small outpost and border town now lay in ruins. Houses of timber and stone alike utterly destroyed, seemingly to have been sliced to pieces by millions of impossibly sharp and clean sword strikes. Bodies of men and women and children, some in fine robes and others in plain ones or even just rags, littered the ground, having suffered a similar fate to that of their homes. Their bodies reduced to nigh droplets of blood and gore, the pieces unrecognisable and often smaller than a finger.

And, as this gruesome sight was consumed by flame, a figure, tall and broad, watched with vivid red eyes, a hungry glint within them as the figure watched the fires envelope the carnage from the hilltop.

He smiled wickedly and sheathed his blades in their respective sheaths as he turned away. He had sent his message, had laid down his challenge. Now he would only have to wait for someone, hopefully one of great power and strength, to answer it.

Then, oh then, he would be able to show his true might and crush his challenger, taking their strength for his own.

Such was the way of the warrior, those who walked the path of the sword, a path littered with the spilt blood and fallen bodies of ones enemies. The foundation of one's legacy and strength created by corpses piled high.

He hoped he wouldn't have to wait _too_ long.

His eerily glowing red eyes gazed into the distance, the light of the moon briefly illuminating his pale and almost skeletal face, a death's grin crossing his visage once more.

Otherwise, he might just have to give the world another _reminder_ that he existed and that his gauntlet had been thrown down.

* * *

**Author Notes**

_Well, __that is another chapter down. Sorry for the long wait between updates but Real Life and other stories got me turned around._

_This chapter is really only a filler, a line into the next arc of the story, showing a slice of life for our three companions. This takes place a little over a year after the end of the last chapter and a year before the Naruto storyline starts._

_In regards to the ages of both Xander and Kurotsuchi, I have had to fudge the numbers a little. _

_Xander __**looks**__ to be in his late teens or very early twenties, but is in fact a little bit older. He comes from a time after Sunnydale sunk into the ground, meaning Post Season Seven of Buffy and utterly ignoring the comic seasons. His age, however, was reversed just a little, his body slightly remoulded, by the Shinigami in order for him to be able to survive in the Elemental Nations._

_Kurotsuchi, on the other hand, is roughly fourteen or fifteen. She has graduated the Iwa Academy and has had a year of experience as a gennin before she was put under Xander's tutelage by her grandfather. This gels relatively well with Naruto Canon, I think._

_In regards to the demons now abounding in the world of Naruto, expect a lot of traditional Japanese monsters to crop up. That said they will be quite different compared to how some of the real world legends portray them, sort of like Supernatural from my admittedly limited understanding of the series, having never seen an episode of it. Myths and legends are often distorted through the centuries, after all._

_I hope you all enjoyed the chapter._

_Please read and review._

_With regards,_

_Kujikiri21_


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